


To Live

by slowcookedvig



Series: Defining Felicity [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Anti-fridging, Character Death(s), F/F, F/M, Felicity deserves a personality, Felicity deserves better, Felicity deserves her own dreams and motivations, Female Friendships, Lazarus Pit, POV First Person, POV Multiple, POV Third Person, Season 6 Fix-It, Season 7 fix-it, character resurrection(s), female characters with motivations and backstories that aren't always about men they dated, female identity, female independence, no olicity baby, revenge of the fridged women, road trip of blood lust and self-discovery, set Felicity free
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-08-28 18:35:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 26
Words: 49,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16728696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slowcookedvig/pseuds/slowcookedvig
Summary: Thea, Nyssa, and Roy have destroyed the last Lazarus Pit. But not before one last person was resurrected: Felicity Smoak, who died in childbirth.Now they need to figure out why Talia al Ghul helped bring Felicity back to life, help Felicity deal with her urge to kill Oliver... and help Felicity figure out who she is.Critical of canon!Olicity.





	1. Thea

**Author's Note:**

> This is a revision of the story originally posted as "Blood Lust," and then re-titled as "To Live."
> 
> This fic is pro-Felicity, but anti-canon!Olicity. (If you like lines like "we found ourselves in each other" or "you're the best part of me," this fic is not for you.) I want stories in which Felicity develops as a character; the show has failed to give that to me.
> 
> I used to be an Olicity shipper, until two things happened. First, during season 5, I realized that the fandom has completely different values from me. And second, during season 6 I learned that Arrow had been created by a sexual harasser and a man who couldn't see that gender harassment is wrong. That led me to re-examine the entire canonical relationship between Oliver and Felicity. And I didn't like what I saw.
> 
> This fic diverges from canon after 6.16 (when Thea left the show). I haven't seen most of season 6B. If you were happy with the reunion between Oliver and Felicity at the end of season 5, or with the wedding and marriage in season 6, or the pregnancy in season 7, please just go read something else now.
> 
> Chapters alternate point-of-view. Felicity's chapters are in first person and present tense (except for her memories); all other chapters are in 3rd person and past tense.

Thea shot an arrow at one veiled woman, kicked another in the face, and nocked a new arrow. A thump nearby told her that Roy had just done one of his flips. She hoped that he had also taken out his attacker, but didn't have time to comment, because two more Assassins yelled and came running at her, their knives carving fluid patterns that would have diced anyone who hadn't been trained by Malcolm.

Who was still an asshole. Even if he was dead.

A few more cracks told her that Roy had taken out the remaining Assassins.

Thea sighed and pulled off her hood. "Hopefully that gave Nyssa enough time to dump her potion into the pit."

Roy nodded. "That's the last one, right?"

Thea smiled grimly. "Right. After tonight, the dead will stay dead. Forever."

"And they won't have blood lust," Roy finished. He leaned towards her. Thea closed the distance and kissed him, quickly, before pulling away.

"We need to check the other rooms," she said.

Roy shrugged. "Can't blame me for trying." He pulled another arrow out of his quiver. "Do you want to kick the door down, or should I?"

"Let's do it together," Thea said. "On three."

Roy counted out loud. "One... two..."

"Three!" Thea finished. And they kicked as if they had practiced. Which they had. Synchronized kicking, then sex. Life was good.

The room was a bedroom. Dimly lit, with the usual League-of-Assassins torches. Thea had almost convinced Nyssa to replace them with lava lamps. Almost. 

A body moved in the shadows. Thea spun and released an arrow. The body extended something - it looked like a butter knife - and knocked it to the ground. Thea nocked another arrow before she registered the height and build of the man.

Shirtless. Messy haired. Glaring at her.

"Thea...?" he said.

Thea shook her head. "Ollie," she said. "What the hell are you doing at Talia al Ghul's secret Lazarus Pit hideout?"

Ollie blinked. "You didn't hear?" he said. "It's Felicity. She was having our baby... and she died."

***

Thea just stared at her half-dressed brother. Nothing he said made sense. "Felicity...?"

But Roy was there, beside her, shaking his head at Oliver. "You didn't..." he said.

Oliver glared back at Roy. "Tell me you would do anything different, in my place."

Roy stepped back, hands up in surrender. "I didn't say that," he said. "It's just..."

Thea frowned. "Ollie," she said. "What did you do?"

But at that moment, Nyssa appeared. "The Pit has been destroyed," she said. "My sister, however, has escaped."

"Of course she did," Thea grumbled. "They always do."

"But that was not the only thing," Nyssa continued. "Before she disappeared, she mocked me. She said that she would have the last word, as always."

"Older siblings suck," Thea agreed. She glanced at Oliver. "I mean..."

But Nyssa was already frowning at Oliver. "What brings you to the stronghold of my sister?" she asked.

He opened his mouth, but didn't manage to say anything until one of the other doors opened and a whirlwind in a white nightgown appeared.

Thea's vision blurred, and for a moment, she was the one in the nightgown. Arms raised. Hair wild.

But the hair was blonde.

"Felicity...?" Thea whispered.

Felicity was already leaping towards Oliver when Roy released an arrow, and ropes wrapped themselves around her. 

Roy wrestled Felicity to the ground, whispering something.

Nyssa took a step towards Oliver. 

He raised his hands. "It was pre-eclampsia," he said. "It was just a headache, she said. I was on a mission. She was on comms. She said it was nothing. But when I got back to the bunker, she had already gone to the hospital." He swallowed. "The baby came early. But it didn't survive. And Felicity..."

Roy shook his head at Oliver.

"I couldn't do this without her," Oliver said. "None of it. She's the best part of me. She's the only reason why I'm..." He looked helplessly at Roy. 

"I get it," Roy said. "I really do. I was a dumbass street kid before I met Thea. She saved my life."

Oliver nodded.

"But that doesn't mean..." Roy continued.

Felicity tore at the ropes around her, snarling.

Snarling at Oliver.

Nyssa stepped between them. "Keep her restrained," she said to Roy. She looked at Oliver and sighed. "I understand, now, why my sister mocked me," she said. 

"I know that Talia can't be trusted," Oliver said. "But there was no choice to make."

"And now you have sealed your doom," Nyssa said. "Your wife died while bearing your child, yes?"

Oliver nodded. "Yes. And I couldn't..."

"Do you not understand how the blood lust works?" Nyssa asked him.

"Anyone resurrected by the Lazarus Pit has it," Oliver started.

And then Thea saw it. "Unless they kill the person who killed them," she said.

"But nobody killed Felicity," Roy said. "She died in childbirth."

Nyssa cut him off with a look. "It has been centuries since this last occurred," she said. "But the stories are still told. A cautionary tale. A warning for desperate lovers. When a woman dies in childbirth, there is still a person responsible." She looked at Oliver. "The father of the child."

Roy's eyes widened. "So Felicity...?"

Nyssa nodded. "Felicity wants only one death. Oliver's."

Thea shook her head back and forth. "Oh, Ollie," she said. "What have you done."


	2. I, who was once Felicity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Felicity's point-of-view will be in first person and present tense. It will probably be jarring and feel entirely out of character. That is deliberate.

In the beginning, there is water. 

Limpid, yet murky.

At rest, yet stirring.

Nourishing. Drowning.

It flows, as if without substance, and fills all the empty spaces.

That's what liquids do, of course. They take the shape of their container.

The water breaks.

Not now. It's too soon. It's not time for the water to break. Not now.

But there is air.

A gasp.

Alive.

Breathe.

I... breathe.

I... am... alive.

***

I was left in the snow to die when they ran out of food. 

The knife wound never healed, and the skin turned colors and oozed stinking fluid, and I could barely walk from the dizziness.

The dynamite went off too early, and the rocks came down on me.

They killed everyone in my family. Including me.

I was shot, five times, in the shoulder. Or the head. Or the back. 

I pushed, and I pushed, but they said "prep her for a C-section" and wheeled me out of the room. At least they numbed me and it stopped hurting. Until the baby was out, and the numbness receded, and suddenly there was a sharp pain in my back and I called to the nurse and then the monitor squealed its warning, and I thought "where's the cabinet with the blood... I need to get Oliver more blood..." 

I awaken, angry, angry at them all. I wanted to live. I WANT to live.

I lurch forward, trying to sit, to grab any weapon to fight them, to fight HIM. But I am restrained. Not just by the sheets tangled around my legs.

Someone is in the room with me. Not HIM. I open my eyes, blinking at her.

"Felicity Smoak," she says.

I frown. I have heard those words before.

"Welcome back to life."

Back? I remember the dreams. Or memories?

"I died," I say. The fury rises again, and I pull at my restraints.

"Yes," she says. She glances at the restraints. "Those will not be removed for some time." 

"I remember..." I say.

"Not all memories are your own," she says. "The waters collect the memories of all who have used them. It will take time to understand which ones belonged to you, before." She pulls out a syringe. "This will allow you to rest while your mind struggles." 

I hate needles, I think. But she pricks me, and the world goes dark again. 

***

I sleep. I awaken. A different woman comes in, feeds me, leaves.

I sleep again.

I dream. Or remember.

I was building the railroad. I was robbing banks. I was living, just living with my family, when they came and killed us all. I was watching lines of text scroll by on a computer screen when the contractions began.

I roll over to see the first woman again, watching me. She nods, and her dark hair falls over her eyes for a moment.

"Which one was I?" I ask her. 

She tilts her head toward the side of my bed. There is a table there. I lift my head to look at it, but the restraints hold me down.

She walks around the bed and loosens them, one at a time. "Your guards are trained Assassins," she says.

I look around and see a pair of veiled women, watching. I nod back, understanding. The dark-haired woman steps aside to allow me to look at the table.

There is a flat, rectangular object, shiny on one side. I pick it up, and my finger taps on the glass, as if the finger remembers something that I don't. A photo appears.

HIM. 

I hear nothing but the sound of blood rushing in my ears. My heart races. HIM. He is the one.

I fling the tablet across the room. 

It shatters. 

The dark-haired woman looks at me and smiles.

I stare back at her, breathing heavily, not understanding how a piece of glass could enrage me like that.

She gestures back at the table.

I don't want to look, but I do.

The object looks familiar. I lift it, fearing that the rage will return, but nothing happens.

I unfold it, lift the stems over my ears. Look through the lenses.

The world blurs. It's not supposed to blur. This is when everything is supposed to become clear.

I frown at the dark-haired woman, and remove my glasses. Her face comes back into focus.

"The waters repair your body," she says. "Before, you needed your glasses to see. But now, you can see clearly."

I look at the glasses again and set them aside.

"Your back has been repaired, as well," she says. "The chip is still there. But you no longer need it."

The chip. I frown. 

"I was shot," I say. 

The memory is different from the dreams. Blurry. Vague. Like my eyesight through the glasses.

The woman nods again. "Yes," she says. "That memory is you."

She pulls out the syringe again, and all goes dark.

***

I was carrying the dynamite, readying it to go into its hole, when it exploded.

No. Not I. _He_. Someone else. _He_ wants to kill his foreman. His anger is still there, blurring my vision for a moment. But he is not me.

Neither is the woman who was killed with her family. Or the bank robber who was shot in the head.

They are not me. But their rage is my rage. I died. We died. We wanted to live.

Nobody will kill us again. We will kill them, first.

My eyes blink open as I sit up, heart pounding, panting like the air will be snatched from my lungs again.

I am alone in the room. No guards. No dark-haired woman to answer my questions or drug me into calm, silent sleep.

There are noises beyond the walls. Metal clanging against metal. The thwick of arrows flying.

I know these sounds. Like I knew my glasses. Like I knew the tablet.

My heart races. It is getting harder to breathe. I need... I need... to breathe...

I am already tense when I hear the voices. Not the dark-haired women. Not the guards.

I know those voices.

I know THAT voice.

HIM. 

I leap out of bed, reaching for anything that might serve as a weapon, and explode out of the door.


	3. Roy

"Oh, Ollie," Thea said. "What have you done."

Oliver opened his mouth, like he actually thought answering would be a good idea. But Felicity snarled again, struggling against the ropes.

They looked like they were getting looser.

"Um," Roy said, "I don't think those ropes are going to hold." 

Nyssa nodded. "There is a drug that is given to those who come out of the Pit. My sister must have some in one of the rooms." She looked at Oliver. "I assume she did not tell you where it is kept."

Oliver shook his head.

"Watch her," Nyssa said, looking mostly at Roy and Thea. "And remind Oliver to keep his distance. I will search for the drug."

"Get further back," Thea told Oliver.

"You never jumped this far," Oliver grumbled. "And you were trained by a member of the League of Assassins."

Thea shook her head at him. "First, you were on your pre-engagement honeymoon when I was at my worst," she said. "And second, you were never the person I really wanted to kill. Give her space, Ollie. Real, physical space." 

Oliver took three steps back. Good thing, because Felicity wriggled free of the ropes around her legs and lunged at him. Roy and Thea jumped forward and pulled her back before she got far.

"It's ok," Roy murmured to her. "It's ok. We won't hurt you. We're your friends."

Felicity looked at him, wild-eyed. But before she could respond, Nyssa returned with a syringe and plunged it into Felicity's arm.

Felicity slumped to the ground.

Oliver looked down at her crumpled body. "What now?" he asked. "I know you used the last of the Lotus on Thea. But there's got to be some other way to cure Felicity." He glanced at Thea, then looked back at Nyssa. "Sara got better. She didn't have any trouble around Thea when the aliens attacked, a couple years ago. It's possible."

Nyssa and Thea didn't look at each other, but the temperature in the room dropped several degrees. Oliver didn't seem to notice.

Roy took a breath and waded into the mess. "We don't talk about Sara," he said. "Or rather, they don't. I just follow their lead."

Nyssa looked at Oliver. "You should leave before she awakens," she said.

"But..." Oliver looked like he wanted to argue.

"You cannot help her," Nyssa said.

"Nyssa's right," Thea said. "If you're here, she won't be able to think about anything except killing you."

Oliver nodded slowly.

"I'll go with you." Roy hadn't realized he was going to offer until the words were already out. "Nyssa knows how the Lazarus Pit works, more than the rest of us, at least. And Thea knows what blood lust feels like. They should be with Felicity. That leaves me." He shrugged. "Besides, I've always wanted a chance to drive your Porsche."

"Why would you drive my Porsche?" Oliver frowned.

"Because it's hard to focus on driving at times like this," Roy said. "Trust me. I get it."

***

They drove in silence for a while.

Roy slowed for the washboards on the dirt road, then sped up when they reached pavement. He glanced briefly at Oliver, who was slumped in the passenger seat, staring at nothing, and then turned his eyes back to the road.

"I actually wrecked three different cars, worrying about Thea," Roy said.

Oliver glared at him.

"Not that I'm going to wreck yours," Roy backpedaled. "I got better. Not about thinking about Thea, but about driving. Sometimes you just need to pull over and sleep."

Oliver didn't say anything. 

Roy slowed for a stop sign, then turned onto a paved road. They passed a sign: 40 miles to Idaho.

"Too bad you didn't know about that Lazarus Pit in Wyoming before," Roy commented. "It would have been a lot easier to take Thea there than to go to Nanda Parbat."

Oliver made a strangled noise.

Roy winced. "Sorry," he said. He had forgotten that Oliver might have more pleasant memories of that night in Nanda Parbat than Thea did.

"It's fine," Oliver said.

"You're going home, right?" Roy asked. "I should have checked before turning west."

Oliver slumped. "I probably should," he admitted. "My probation officer will be looking for me."

Roy braked to avoid hitting a deer, then continued driving west in silence.

***

"So... they gave you probation," Roy started.

"Yes," Oliver replied. "Probation."

"Not bad," Roy said. "Given that they found you guilty of everything that the Arrow did."

"It was more than I had hoped for," Oliver admitted. "You should have seen Felicity when she took the stand." 

"Thea told me she puked on the prosecutor," Roy said.

Oliver chuckled, then sighed. "Morning sickness," he said. "We didn't even know she was pregnant until then."

"Did the judge find out?" Roy asked.

"Oh, yes," Oliver said. "Jean Loring made sure everyone knew that my pregnant wife would not be taking the stand for the rest of my sentencing hearing." He sighed, defeated. "Felicity saved me. She always saves me."

Roy slowed, ignored the stop sign, and merged onto the state highway. It was Idaho. Nobody pays attention to stop signs in rural Idaho. "So. Not the mayor any more. But on probation."

Oliver nodded, just at the edge of Roy's peripheral vision.

"Do you have a story ready for your probation officer?" Roy asked. "Because I know a little about being on probation. And I suspect that stealing your wife's body from the hospital morgue probably violated the terms."

"I didn't have a plan," Oliver admitted. "I was counting on Felicity's help. The probation officer likes her."

Roy frowned. "Were you allowed to leave the state?" 

"I wasn't allowed to leave the city," Oliver said.

Roy glanced at him. "And you're not supposed to be the Green Arrow, either." It wasn't a question. "You didn't actually put on the suit when you stole Felicity's body, did you?"

"No," Oliver replied. "The FBI took the suit. Along with all the weapons they found."

"What happened to the bunker? After the trial, I mean?" Roy asked. He frowned. "How did you end up with a bunker under your empty campaign office, anyway?"

"Felicity owns the building," Oliver said. "She bought it when I was running for mayor the first time." 

"So the bunker is still there?" Roy asked. 

Oliver shook his head. "It's cleaned out and closed off. Felicity had to rent out the building. Part of the rules of probation - I wasn't allowed there."

"So you can't be mayor, and you can't be the Green Arrow," Roy mused. "Wait. Didn't you say you were on a mission when Felicity...?"

Oliver glared at him.

Roy shrugged back.

"I don't need the bow," Oliver said. "And the city still needed saving. More than ever, with half the police force on trial for corruption."

"So... just fists?" Roy asked.

"Fists, plus Felicity's hacking," Oliver said.

"It was just the two of you, huh," Roy said. "I heard that Lyla had to move to DC for ARGUS stuff."

Oliver nodded. "John went with her."

"And the others? Didn't they help you take down Diaz?" Roy asked. "Or did they take him down without you, or something?"

"Kind of," Oliver said. "I broke out while the jury was deliberating. I only saw the aftermath."

"You broke out..." Roy shook his head. "That probably didn't help you with the verdict."

Oliver didn't argue the point.

"So what actually happened?" Roy asked.

"Laurel - Earth 2 Laurel - she killed Diaz," Oliver said. "The others didn't know what she was doing. Quentin got caught in the crossfire... nobody knows which one of them killed him. After that, Rene left the city to raise his daughter somewhere else. Laurel went back to Earth 2 - with Cisco's help - and Curtis went with her, to try to find some technology to keep everyone on their own worlds. I don't know where Dinah went; she said she needed some time to work things out." Oliver breathed. "So it was just me and Felicity."

"What about your kid?" Roy said. "I mean... the teenager. William."

"Some of his mother's relatives showed up after the news of the verdict came out," Oliver said. "They got custody. Part of my probation."

Which brought the conversation full circle. "So... what are you going to do about your probation officer?" Roy asked.

Oliver sighed. "I don't know."

Roy thought for a while. "You could tell the truth."

Oliver stared at him.

"Not the whole truth, about the Lazarus Pit or anything. Just... that you were upset. You needed some time. So you ran away." Roy glanced at Oliver and shrugged. "And you're very, very sorry. Probation officers like it better when you apologize."

Oliver nodded.

Roy wasn't sure whether Oliver would be telling the truth if he said he was sorry.

If Roy had been in Oliver's shoes, if Roy had been forced to choose whether to bring Thea back to life... well, Roy wouldn't have been sorry for doing that, either.

Not that he would ever admit that to Oliver or Thea.


	4. Thea

"We should leave, as well," Nyssa said. "My sister may have fled, but her people will come here and find us."

"Unless they've already set their trap," Thea replied, looking at Felicity.

"We should not risk staying," Nyssa said. "I have taken the entire supply of drugs. There is nothing here for us."

"A bed might be nice," Thea said wistfully. The door to Oliver's room was still open.

"It will smell like your brother," Nyssa chided. "If you sleep in it, you will pick up his scent, and Felicity might mistake you for her enemy."

"Good thing I didn't even have a chance to give him a hug, then," Thea replied.

"Gather the weapons," Nyssa said. "Take any swords and arrows that Talia's people have abandoned. I will watch Felicity until we are packed." 

"The trunk of Roy's old car isn't that big, you know," Thea pointed out. But she did as she was told. Nyssa understood more of the situation than she did.

There were a lot of weapons. But more importantly, she found a bag that Felicity must have packed before she went to the hospital. Spare glasses. Contact lenses and cleaning solution. Laptop. Cell phone. Felicity's favorite shampoo and conditioner, a couple bottles of nice-smelling lotions, and several different shades of lipstick. Clothes - baggier than Thea remembered Felicity wearing, but bright and cheerful. A couple books - two sci fi novels, plus a ragged paperback about caring for a newborn. 

The last one had a post-it note stuck to it - Lyla, apologizing for missing the baby shower, but wishing Oliver and Felicity the best. Some of the dog-eared pages had careful notes in the margins, in two different handwritings. John Diggle was surprisingly fond of exclamation points, Thea noted.

She pulled the baby book out and put it with the weapons, then hefted Felicity's bag and carried it to the car.

Felicity had clearly packed the bag, but Oliver had thought to bring it to the Lazarus Pit.

So much hope in that bag. Thea sighed and put it into the trunk.

Back inside, Nyssa had rigged a blanket and two swords into some kind of a stretcher. Together, they lifted Felicity onto it, then carried her out to the car. Thea put the swords into the trunk, then tucked the blanket around Felicity and buckled her awkwardly into the back seat.

*** 

Thea drove. She was, after all, the only conscious person with a US driver's license out of the group. She stopped and looked at Nyssa before turning onto the highway.

"Which way?" she asked. "Know any secret blood-lust-curing spots in Wyoming?"

"No," Nyssa replied. "Nor elsewhere, on this continent or others."

"So we flip a coin?" Thea asked.

"Your brother will be returning to Star City," Nyssa said. "We should avoid him at all costs."

"East, then," Thea said. "Too bad. I know some nice ski lodges in Jackson."

"We should avoid nice places," Nyssa said. "We should avoid people, as much as we can."

Thea nodded and turned east.

***

"You said you knew old stories about women who died in childbirth and were resurrected in the Lazarus Pit," Thea said. They had been driving for an hour or more, and Felicity hadn't moved. "Want to tell any of them?"

"The stories are neither interesting nor useful," Nyssa said. "They are told as warnings. What truth was in them has been lost."

"Well, I've never heard them," Thea said. "And avoiding people is getting boring already."

Nyssa didn't say anything for a few moments. Thea had nearly resigned herself to never hearing the stories when Nyssa spoke.

"Once upon a time," Nyssa began.

Thea glanced at her in surprise.

"It was a joke," Nyssa said.

"Oh." Thea felt cheated.

"The stories were all the same," Nyssa said. "The young girl falls in love and gets pregnant. She dies. Her lover brings her to the Lazarus Pit. She comes back to life and kills him." She shrugged. "Sometimes the girl would kill herself, after."

"That's awful," Thea said.

"They were cautionary tales," Nyssa replied. "A happy ending would not be much of a warning."

"I guess not," Thea said. "You said there were a lot of them?"

Nyssa nodded. "They were as common as princess stories are in your culture," she said.

Thea wrinkled her nose. "Love stories from the League of Assassins," she said. "What on Earth were they trying to teach you?"

Nyssa smiled, ever so slightly. Thea almost missed it. "When I was young, I thought they were warning us against falling in love with men," she said. "It was an easy warning for me to heed. I have never found men very appealing."

"But...?" Thea prompted.

"I took my first lover when I was thirteen. Maybe fourteen. She was the daughter of an Assassin, like me. We trained together." Nyssa smiled, remembering. "We would go to the baths together after training. One day, she warned me that my father would kill her if he knew about us."

"As one does, when one is the Demon's Head," Thea said.

"Precisely. But I told her not to fear - if my father killed her, I would simply take her to the Lazarus Pit. She would be mine forever." Nyssa glanced back at Felicity, making sure she was still unconscious. "My lover was horrified. Hadn't I ever heard the stories?" She shook her head. "Of course I had heard them. But they warned about men. Not women." 

"Were there other stories about women?" Thea asked.

"No," Nyssa said. "Our love was unthinkable in the League. But she told me her interpretation of the story. That it was a warning about loving too much, about holding on when you should let go." She sighed. "The next day, she left on her first mission. She never came back." 

"I'm sorry," Thea said.

"After that, I began listening more closely to the stories that were told to the children." Nyssa took a deep breath. "She was right."

_And that's why you let Sara go_ , Thea thought. She looked into the rearview mirror, saw Felicity unconscious, wrapped in a blanket. _But those were just stories to frighten small children. I went into the Pit, and I lived, and I still love. Sara still lives, and is Sara, with or without Nyssa_.

_Maybe we can make up our own stories_.

***

They pulled into the sprawling outskirts of a town, with new-ish pre-fab buildings and dirt parking lots full of some kind of heavy equipment.

"We should get some food," Thea suggested. "And maybe find a hotel out of the way. Something with a suite, and doors in the back."

They found both, within a block of each other. Well, within whatever passed for a block in the sprawl along the highway. Thea checked in and got the key cards, then helped Nyssa carry a still-unconscious Felicity up to the room. Nyssa watched Felicity while Thea got their bags, and then went to get food, leaving Thea to get them settled. 

"Felicity's allergic to peanuts," Thea called after Nyssa. The burger place down the road had a giant ice cream cone on its sign, and who knew what Nyssa would be inspired to buy. It would probably be delicious, based on Thea's experience over the past nine months of travel. But Thea didn't want to have to tell her brother that they had killed his recently reanimated wife by triggering anaphylaxis.

Felicity lay on one of the beds, still half wrapped in the blanket that served as her stretcher. Thea put Felicity's overnight bag beside the tv and climbed onto the other bed to watch Felicity sleep.

"I remember what it's like," Thea said out loud. As if Felicity could hear her. "Well, I remember feeling lost and confused, not sure who I was or what had happened."

She watched Felicity breathing, in and out, and then a sudden hitch, as if something happened in a dream.

"You sat with me, on the plane ride home from Nanda Parbat. I barely knew you, but you tucked a pillow under my head and talked. You probably didn't ever realize that I was listening." Thea stopped to take a breath. "Now it's my turn."

"You grew up in Las Vegas," Thea began. "Your mom was a cocktail waitress in a casino, and you learned to count cards. Nobody can beat you at blackjack, but you can't lie well enough to win at poker. You're crazy smart - you got into MIT on a scholarship when you were, what, sixteen? You can build your own computers. You can hack into anything." She smiled. "You like ice cream and red wine. You're afraid of heights and needles, but you would face all of your fears if it meant helping other people. You've got a favorite salon where they give you a hand massage while they dye your hair. You can quote every line from Star Wars and Star Trek and Doctor Who and some obscure sci fi movies that I've never seen. We watch Sharknado together when we want to forget about boys."

There was a sound of a lock turning, and Nyssa came in, carrying a paper bag and a cardboard tray full of cups.

"That smells good," Thea said, opening the bag. "They might not have Big Belly Burger here, but I think we'll survive."

Nyssa set the cardboard tray on the table beside the bed. "They had shakes," she said, and pulled out a bag of fries. 

Thea looked at them. "Chocolate, black raspberry, and mint chip," she said. "Which one do you want?"

"Mint chip," came a voice from the other bed.

Thea and Nyssa spun towards it, to see Felicity sitting up with her hands extended.

"I think... I think I like mint chip," Felicity said.

Thea handed Felicity a cup, and a straw, and a spoon, and watched her eat.


	5. Roy

Oliver led the way up the stairs to his apartment. Roy had never been to this one - just to the mansion (which had burned down) and the loft, which had been sub-let. Sub-letting made sense, Roy figured. An unemployed former mayor on probation and his pregnant, computer consultant wife didn't have a lot of income.

It was still a pretty nice apartment. A whole separate kitchen, with a bar separating it from the eating space and living room. At least two bedrooms. High ceilings. Roy had only occasionally landed in space that nice, and only after he had found a roommate. Oh, and started using that false identity that Felicity had set up for him.

"You can put your things in here," Oliver said, switching on a light in one of the bedrooms.

Roy walked into the room, then stopped and stared. The walls were light green, with paintings of dinosaurs and wizards all the way around the room near the ceiling. Something like a bookshelf was attached to one of the walls. Except that it wasn't exactly a bookshelf - it had lots of different sizes of cubbies and drawers built into it. On one end, it was only three feet tall, with a railing around it and some kind of padded mattress-like thing on top. A mobile hung above the table, spinning and sparkling with pieces of what looked like hand-made glass or metal. A crib sat along one wall. The comforter on it looked new, but the stuffed rabbit and bear must have been at least as old as Roy.

He looked back at Oliver. "It looks like someone built this stuff special, for this room." That sounded pricey.

"I made it," Oliver said. "Felicity was busy working, and we didn't have that much income, even with renting out the loft and the campaign office."

"It's really impressive," Roy said. "I didn't know you could make this kind of stuff. I mean, I know you fixed up the original bunker on your own, but... this is something else."

"It's cheerful, you mean," Oliver said. 

"I didn't say that," Roy replied. "But... yeah."

"Felicity chose the colors," Oliver said. "And did all the math to design the mobile."

"But you made all this stuff," Roy pointed out. "The shelves, the... what is that thing?"

"A changing table," Oliver said. "For diapers."

Roy didn't know how to respond, so he tried to stay on a safer topic. "Did you paint the dinosaurs, too?"

Oliver nodded. "That's too high for Felicity to reach. Especially pregnant. She suggested the design, though." He looked around the room. "We decided not to find out if we were having a girl or a boy, and Felicity thought that green and dinosaurs would go well together." He paused. "Felicity said she always wished that she had more toy dinosaurs." 

Roy decided to stop talking, rather than ask whose stuffed animals were sitting in the empty crib.

Finally, Oliver turned away from the room. "The couch turns into a bed," he said. "So William would have a place to sleep, if his relatives ever decided to let him visit. You can sleep out here."

Roy nodded.

Oliver stood awkwardly for a moment. "The bathroom's over there," he pointed. "And there are sheets and blankets for the couch in here." He opened a cupboard. "Towels, too."

"Thanks," said Roy.

Oliver looked around, then took a breath. "I'll be in the other room if you need me."

He picked up his duffle bag, carried it into his room, and shut the door. 

Roy listened for a moment, half expecting to hear something smash. The Oliver that he had known, years ago, would have at least punched something by now.

But the only sound was a soft snuffling noise, not even quite a sob.

Roy pulled the sheets out of the cupboard and made up his bed, as loudly as possible. 

***

The lights were out in the bathroom when Roy got up. He looked in what seemed to be the most obvious places, but he couldn't find any spares.

Oliver came out of his room, scratching his hair sleepily. He frowned up at Roy, who was standing on a chair, trying to see into the back of one of the kitchen cupboards. 

"Morning," Roy said. "Where do you keep your spare bulbs? The bathroom light is out." 

"Oh, yeah," Oliver said. "I forgot about that. Here, I'll find it. We hid all the breakable things up high."

Roy got down and pushed the chair to Oliver, who dragged it towards the stove. Oliver had just started digging in the back of the cupboard when his phone buzzed.

"Could you see who that is?" Oliver asked. "Maybe it's Thea."

Roy picked up the phone. "Who is 'Julia Nesbitt'?"

Oliver looked down from the chair. "She's my probation officer. Could you answer that, and put it on speaker? She gets concerned if the phone goes to voice mail."

Roy did as he was asked. 

"Hi, Ms. Nesbitt," Oliver said.

"Mr. Queen," the phone said. "I expected you to check in a couple days ago. How are you doing?"

Oliver hesitated.

Roy mouthed _tell the truth_ at him.

"It's been a rough few days," Oliver admitted.

"I'm not surprised," the probation officer said. "I'm sorry... about everything."

"Thank you," Oliver replied.

"We should meet," she said. "It must be especially hard, with the disappearance of your wife's body."

Roy willed Oliver to stay cool, act confused... anything.

"Disappearance?" Oliver asked.

It wasn't the worst thing he could have said, Roy thought.

"Yes," the probation officer replied. "They haven't told you?"

"I've stayed off my phone," Oliver said. It was probably the truth, Roy thought. The Lazarus Pit hadn't had cell service.

There was a pause on the phone. "I understand," the probation officer finally said. She sounded kind. Roy wondered where she had been for all those years when he had been meeting with grumpy hard-asses. "Do you have anyone... your sister, maybe?"

Oliver looked at Roy. "Actually, I do," he said. "My sister's boyfriend... fiancé?"

Roy nodded.

"My sister's fiancé is here. Staying with me, for a while," Oliver finished.

"Oh," the probation officer said. "That's good. I'd like to meet him."

Roy suddenly hoped that his actual, returned-from-the-dead identification was in order. And that the investigation of police corruption was far enough along that he wouldn't get in trouble for disappearing when he was supposed to have testified in court.

And also that he could explain the whole part about being arrested for the being the Arrow himself. And returning from the dead.

He really hoped that Star City was open to people returning from the dead, as a general rule. That would make this whole situation a lot easier. 

***

Roy didn't have a suit. Or even a shirt with buttons. Destroying Lazarus Pits involved scaring people more than impressing them. But at least he and Thea had hit the laundromat a few days before they found the last Pit, and he still had a couple clean shirts.

Oliver, on the other hand, still had an infinite supply of ties. Though they hadn't kept him from getting convicted, Roy remembered. So maybe it wasn't all about having the right clothes, after all. At least not when you also had been a vigilante responsible for killing dozens of people.

"Ready?" Oliver asked.

Roy nodded, and they headed out to meet the probation officer.

She wasn't very intimidating. Shorter than Roy, dressed like a low-key professional. Though Roy knew from experience that small women could be fierce. And anyone assigned to keep the former Green Arrow in line was probably tougher than she looked.

"Roy Harper," Nesbitt said.

Roy nodded. "Hi," he said. "You don't seem that surprised to see me."

"I did my homework on Mr. Queen's family," she said. "It was important to know who else was in the picture. Though it wasn't clear where you had been since you were declared dead."

"I guess you know that I was never the Arrow," Roy said.

She nodded. "Mr. Queen was convicted of all those crimes," she said. 

"Which means I'm clear?" Roy asked.

"You're not currently under arrest," she said. "But I need to be sure that you won't influence Mr. Queen to go back into the vigilante business."

Roy glanced at Oliver. "I've never been accused of being a good influence on anyone," he said. "But I spent two years taking community college classes. Auto mechanics. Plus some accounting."

"What were you planning to do?" Nesbitt asked.

"I hoped to start my own business, restoring classic cars," Roy said.

"Do you have a job here in Star City? Even an interview, or an application that you've submitted?" she pressed.

"I just got back to town," Roy said. "But if my identity is legal again... I'll start looking." He glanced at Oliver. "Later today."

"Are you and Ms. Queen planning to live in Star City after you get married?" Nesbitt asked. "Where is your fiancée, anyway?"

"She had to finish some things up," Roy said. "We were traveling. Hadn't decided where to settle. And then..." He glanced at Oliver.

Nesbitt nodded. "I understand. It was good of you to come back and support Mr. Queen, given all that's happened."

Roy glanced at Oliver. "It was the least I could do."

"I see," she said, and looked at Oliver. "How are you doing, Mr. Queen?"

Oliver shrugged. "I..." He stopped and shrugged again.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Mr. Queen," Nesbitt said.

"Thank you," Oliver said. He didn't seem bothered that she had said nearly the same thing over the phone.

"But," she said, glancing at Roy, "I hope that you are leaving the mystery of your wife's disappearing body to other people. And I don't mean to your former sidekick."

***

Roy waited until they were in the car to ask the questions that were bothering him. "Doesn't the hospital have security cameras?"

Oliver frowned back at him. "Yes." 

"So why are they worried about you looking for the person who took Felicity's body, rather than suspecting that you took it?" Roy frowned at Oliver. "I mean, we both know who normally deals with security cameras. And she wasn't available."

Oliver nodded and started the car.

"And why aren't you bothered by this?" Roy asked. "I get that you're crazy with grief. I do. But it isn't like you to miss this much stuff."

Oliver sighed and looked at him. "I reached out to Talia to ask about the Lazarus Pit right after Felicity was declared dead. She promised to deal with the hospital security when she offered to help."

That raised more questions. Like why was Talia so easy for Oliver to reach, and how could she get control over cameras from a distance.

And whether Talia was still keeping an eye on them.

But Roy had trouble putting his questions into words, so he just sat back and watched Oliver drive.


	6. I, who was Felicity

There is a rumbling sound, and everything shakes. It reminds me of the train that first brought me here.

No. That was not me. That was a different one. The man with the dynamite. Or maybe the bank robber. They are difficult to distinguish. But they are not me. 

The shaking reminds me of other memories, too. Fuzzier. More distant.

I was in a plane, in a middle seat. A voice said there would some turbulence, and I grabbed a bag, and then I puked until my entire lunch was gone.

I was small, in the back seat of a car, half listening to a blonde woman singing along with music. The man beside her, driving, turned to her and said something. I was playing with my dolls, acting out an argument. I only half-listened to the adults. They would be arguing too, soon enough.

The road was bumpy, but the top of the convertible was down, and the wind was in my hair, and I was laughing. I turned to say something to the driver...

A force presses me to one side. Centripetal force. The force you feel when in circular motion, flying away from the center.

I remember centripetal force.

I was sitting in a seat, in a room with over a hundred people, scribbling equations as fast as I could. I pushed up my glasses and realized that I had reached the end of the exam, so I added a cartoon to the margins. A cat in its carrier, stuck in the back seat of a car. Its tail was big. I started writing a thought bubble, but the exam time was over.

I can still do those equations. Radius of the turn. Mass of the object. Angular velocity. I guess our speed and calculate the radius of the turns, until the math lulls me back to sleep.

***

The other men carried my body away from the explosion, but the world became fuzzy, and dark.

I had frostbite, and I couldn't walk. So they carried me. But their food ran out, and one day I woke up in the snow to find that they were gone.

The rest of my gang carried me out of the bank after the sheriff shot me. They left me in the whorehouse, bleeding, and ran.

I was unable to walk, and the loft had stairs, so I was carried to bed every night.

HE carried me.

I twitch with a sudden need. Need for what - that, I'm not sure about.

"You sat with me..." a voice says. A woman's voice. Familiar - not the dark-haired woman from before, who returned my glasses. And who drugged me.

"You grew up in Las Vegas," she reminds me. And suddenly I can see it, the lights and fountains, the tourists taking photos. And I can smell the smoke inside the casinos, and hear the cacophony of bells and chimes from the slot machines, and taste the nachos at the back bar where I sat, doing my math homework while watching the blackjack dealer working. My hair was long then, too, and it hung in my eyes.

I wrote the first draft of my application essay to MIT at that bar, about the first time I built a computer.

I'm still proud of that essay. And that computer.

That memory is me. Felicity.

As the familiar woman speaks, memories emerge, as if from fog floating over the water through which I returned. I grasp at them, but they still slip away as fast as they appear.

There is another sound, rattling and creaking, and then footsteps and another voice. Another woman, less familiar, but not a complete stranger. She brought food.

It smells delicious. Different from the other food that the Assassins gave me when I first came back.

"...mint chip..." says the first woman, the woman I feel was my friend. "Which one do you want?"

My taste buds and salivary glands know the answer to this question, even if I didn't remember the words until my friend said them. I sit up.

"Mint chip," I say. I hold out my hands. _Grabby hands_ , they are called. My hands know how to speak to my friend.

My friend hands me the cup. "This looks really thick," she says, handing me a long object in a paper wrapper.

I pull off the paper, stick the straw into the lid of the cup. My hands remember.

"Here," she says, handing me a spoon. "You might need this."

I take off the lid and dip the spoon into the cup. When I pull it out, there is a clump of something green and speckled on it, something that could never exist in nature. The other voices in my head are concerned about it, but I do not hesitate. I put it into my mouth. It is cold, and it melts, and as I swallow it, the tension and fear and stress melt with it. I smile.

My friend smiles back. "You stress eat," she says. "No judgment. I do, too."

The second woman opens her cup and dips... a fry?... into it. She is solemn, as if this is some kind of holy ritual.

I do not remember doing anything like that, ever. I frown in confusion.

My friend shrugs. "Nyssa likes fries in her shake. Comfort food."

I take a fry and dip it into mine. The salt and mint do not go together.

"Everyone's comfort food is different," my friend says. "Here, want a burger?"

The burger is greasy, and the bun falls apart in my hands when I take a bite. I look down at it and see that my hands are red.

One of the other people in my head starts to panic, remembering pulling a blood-covered hand away from a bullet wound.

"It's ketchup," my friend says. She has taken the burger out of my hands and is giving me a napkin. "It's ok. It wipes off. See?"

The other woman has moved quickly, as if to restrain me.

My friend shakes her head. "Don't," she says. Then she looks me in the eye, while carefully wiping the ketchup from my fingers. "You helped me, just like this, the first time we got Big Belly Burger. It's my turn. Let me help you."

We eat, more calmly now. I take a bite of the burger, wipe my hands, spoon a bit more of the mint chip into my mouth.

My friend takes the wrapper and cup away when they are empty. "How about some TV?" she asks.

The other one watches her, skeptical, as my friend scrolls through the list of words on the screen. I read them as they flicker by, half-remembering my old reactions to them. A little delight; a lot of annoyance. Some shows are really stupid.

"Here," my friend says. "Let's watch this one."

There is a bald man in a uniform, and others like him. On a space ship. They argue. They fight. The bald man is captured, and becomes one of many.

I know this show. I know this episode - these episodes.

"Are the waters kind of like the Borg?" I ask.

My friend looks at me, delighted. "You asked that question before," she said. "Or something like it. I didn't know the answer then, but now... no." She shakes her head. "The other voices get quieter with time. They don't _assimilate_ you." She looks at me earnestly. "You're still Felicity."

I sit, and watch, and wonder what that really means.

But as I sit, I remember the dialogue on the screen, and I repeat the lines with each of the characters, until the episodes are over. 

***

After we turn off the TV, my friend - _Thea_ , the other one calls her _Thea_ \- takes my hand and leads me around the rooms. There is the one we were in, with two beds and the television. Beyond the door is another room, with a couch, another tv, and space for cooking.

"We'll stay away from that," Thea whispers. I think it is a joke that I am supposed to remember, but I don't know what she means by it.

And then there is a smaller room, with a toilet and sink and shower. The other voices in my head find it confusing, but Thea has set out several bottles, all in a line, and lets me smell each one. As I smell the last of them, I run a hand through my hair. It is disgusting.

"You could take a shower, if you want," Thea suggests. "This is your shampoo, and conditioner, and body wash. They might make you feel more like yourself."

The taller one - Nyssa - looks skeptical, but goes out to turn the couch into a bed instead.

I undress, awkwardly. My body is the wrong shape, the wrong size. I remember doing yoga. I remember looking down and wondering where my feet had gone. But now I see my feet, but I also sag and droop in strange ways.

Thea looks at my belly. I follow her eyes. There is the slightest trace of a scar, healing. I do not remember a scar there. Thea looks away and tries to figure out how to turn on the water. I make a guess, and it comes spraying out, first too hot, then too cold, then just right. I climb in, and Thea hands the bottles to me.

I stand under the water, body wash bottle open, and let the water flow over me. The soap smells familiar, and I rub it under my aching, swollen breasts, then over my shoulders. I step under the water to rinse it off and wet my hair for the shampoo.

The water fills all the spaces. Eyes. Ears. Mouth. I see water, hear water. Breathe water.

Thea pulls back the curtain, turns off the water, pats me on the back until I sputter and breathe again.

"I thought a shower would be better," she said. "You gave me a bath, after I came home, and it was awful. Too much like the Pit."

I gasp, then pant, until my heart stops racing. 

"Maybe we'll figure out how to wash your hair tomorrow," Thea says. "I can help brush it, if you like." 

I focus on breathing, five, six, seven. Finally, I nod.

"I'll be gentle," she says. "Here, these are your sleeping clothes. You don't need to wear that weird nightgown."

I pull on panties, loose flannel pants, t-shirt. Thea leads me into the kitchen and sits me in a chair.

Nyssa sits across from us and watches. "The shower was unwise," she says.

"But it feels so gross, not showering for days," Thea argues. "And she was..."

She doesn't finish her sentence, but I know what she was going to say. I was myself... almost myself.

Thea brushes the tangles from my hair, and I wonder, again, what being myself means now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Lazarus Pit healed Felicity's pre-eclampsia, but not the other after-effects of pregnancy.


	7. Thea

Thea watched Felicity sleeping, peacefully for now. "I guess the drugs were a good idea," she said.

"Felicity agreed to them," Nyssa replied. "They will help her, I think. The drugs were developed long ago by the League, to help the newly resurrected."

"So they're more than just tranquilizers," Thea said. "You know, that doesn't make me feel any better about them. I don't trust your sister."

"You do not know her," Nyssa said. "If you did, you would trust her even less."

"Good thing we got away from that Pit, then." Thea tried to let her shoulders relax.

"We have not traveled far," Nyssa warned. "We should remain aware."

"Do you think they'll find us here?" Thea asked.

Nyssa just shrugged.

***

Thea was awakened by the sound of sudden rustling in the next bed. "Could you check on that, Roy?" she murmured, reaching over to push at him.

Her hands just got tangled in the blankets. She blinked and rolled over, remembering.

Felicity was sitting up in the bed beside her, breathing hard, eyes wild.

"It's ok," Thea said. "You're with us. You're safe." She wracked her brain to remember what Felicity had done to help her, back when Thea was struggling with her own resurrection. "How about some breakfast? I saw a diner when we drove into town last night."

Felicity blinked. "I like diners..." But she sounded uncertain.

"We should pack and leave this place," Nyssa said. She was in the doorway, looking ready for something. "I will pay the bill."

Thea helped Felicity into one of the baggy, bright-colored outfits that filled Felicity's overnight bag. The bra was larger than anything Felicity had ever worn before, and had clips in strange places, but they eventually figured it out. And, like the rest of the baggy clothes, it fit. In less than half an hour, they were settled inside a small, grey-paneled building called simply "The Cafe."

Felicity stared at the menu, then flipped to the other side and read the lunch options, then flipped back.

"I'll have one egg, fruit, and toast," Thea said. She glanced at Felicity, who was still frowning. "Actually get two of those. And coffee." 

"I will have a Belgian waffle," Nyssa said.

After the waitress left, Felicity looked from Thea to Nyssa and back.

"What's wrong?" Thea asked.

Felicity shook her head. "I can't remember what I like," she said.

Thea nodded. "It feels like that," she agreed. "But it gives you a chance to discover new things, as well as to eat old favorites. You used to like fruit at breakfast," she said. "And coffee."

The waitress came and poured two cups, then set down the plate of little plastic cream containers. "I'll be back in a moment with your tea, hon," she said to Nyssa.

Thea put one sugar in her coffee, then stirred in some cream. Nyssa took the pot of hot water from the waitress and dropped a tea bag into it. Felicity looked from Thea to Nyssa and back, not sure what to do.

"You usually take sugar, but not cream," Thea said. "Though you would drink a cappuccino if they had an espresso machine."

Felicity nodded, tore open the sugar packet, and stirred it into her coffee.

Thea took a sip, then made a face. "Sorry," she said. "Not great coffee. I'll get Starbucks in a can at the gas station before we drive."

Felicity nodded, then impaled a piece of cantaloupe. 

Nyssa raised a fork full of waffle, strawberry, and whipped cream, smiling. "I love diners."

Felicity watched, interested. "Do I like Belgian waffles?" she asked Thea. "Because that looks good."

Thea grinned, then snuck a piece from Nyssa's plate. "Here. Try some."

"I would share if you asked," Nyssa said. "You need not steal."

Thea passed the fork to Felicity, who looked carefully at it, then took a bite.

"Wow," Felicity said. "Yes."

Thea laughed and ate her toast. Of course it would be something like whipped cream that would bring their Felicity back. Things would be back to normal in no time.

*** 

There weren't many options for roads out of town, so they sped east and south, following the highway. Nyssa had taken the receipt from breakfast and looked at it for a moment too long before putting it away.

"Did that waitress give you a phone number?" Thea asked. In their months traveling together, Nyssa had shown no signs of anything other than complete celibacy.

Nyssa raised an eyebrow at Thea, then tucked the receipt away.

Thea didn't say anything, though she wanted to ask more. But the Sara issue still loomed between them.

Felicity broke the silence. "Have I been here before?" she asked.

The irrigated fields near town were giving way to sagebrush and dirt, and the mountains were slowly fading into the distance behind them.

"I don't know," Thea replied. "I haven't, at least."

"Some of it seems familiar," Felicity said. "But not the houses." 

Thea glanced back over her shoulder. "You remember things... from the others?"

Nyssa looked surprised. 

"There aren't stories about what it's like, to come out of the Pit?" Thea asked.

Nyssa shook her head. "The only stories were warnings," she said.

Felicity frowned in the back seat. "This happened to you," she said to Thea.

"Yes," Thea said. "And it's a little bit weird being the expert in anything, with the two of you in the car." She glanced over her shoulder at Felicity. "You're brilliant, you know. You always have all the answers."

Felicity frowned. "It doesn't feel like I have any answers. Or like I have too many answers."

Thea had to brake suddenly as a pronghorn leaped into the road. When her heart stopped pounding, she forgot where the conversation had been going.

***

Roy's car had an ancient cassette deck, and a box of barely-playable tapes in the back seat. Felicity dug through them, handing one after another up to Nyssa, and then listening to the songs as if each one might hold the secret key to her past. But whoever had sold the car to Roy had a weird taste in music, and nothing sounded familiar to any of them. Felicity tried to sing along with the chorus of each song anyway. Thea joined in whenever she could guess at the lyrics. Nyssa looked out the window and frowned at the landscape.

"I think we should turn here," Nyssa said suddenly, as they slowed to go through something that claimed to be a town. "We are being followed."

Thea glanced at the rear-view mirror. "No, we're not."

"We are," Nyssa said. "Look at the birds."

"The birds follow the wagons..." Felicity murmured. She shook her head. "Sorry. I don't know where that came from."

Thea decided not to ask whose memory Felicity had tapped into. The people who died in Wyoming were pretty different from the ones who had been resurrected in Nanda Parbat. "Turning left," Thea said. "Where are we going?"

Nyssa pulled out the ancient road atlas that they had been following. "This will take us north, around the edge of the mountains."

"And then where?" Thea asked.

Nyssa shrugged. "It depends who is following us."

Felicity leaned forward to try to see Nyssa's map. "I don't think I use these much," she said.

Thea laughed. "No. You would use Google Maps. Or maybe something that you coded yourself, hacking a satellite or something."

Felicity sat back, silent, as if she were trying to remember how that worked.

"Though there probably isn't wi-fi out here," Thea mused. "So I don't know what you used to do on this type of road trip." 

The mountains got closer again, and the road began to rise and fall with every stream that they crossed. Felicity stared out the window as if she might remember something. They sped past a lake with steep walls - some kind of mine - and Felicity frowned at it.

"I didn't die in that," she said. But she didn't sound sure, at all.

They left the mine behind, and then the trees at the edge of the mountain, and then drove across ridges of rock and sagebrush, up and down. They reached an intersection, and Nyssa just shrugged and said to turn right. More rocks. More sagebrush. More hills, and valleys, and hills again. They stopped for gas and snacks, got back into the car, and drove some more. There were a couple towns, not big, and they didn't even slow down going through them. At one point, they got onto a freeway, the same one that could take them back to Star City if they went the other way. Felicity stared at the signs and started to get agitated, so they took the next exit, still going north and east. The road dropped, climbed, and dropped again.

"Wait," Felicity said suddenly. "Turn here."

Nyssa turned back to her. "You are traveling with two daughters of two different Demons," she frowned, "and you wish to visit a place called _Devils Tower_?"

Thea shrugged and took the turn.

As they drove, Felicity began to hum. It sounded familiar.

Thea drove up a hill, around a turn, and then she could see it.

"We watched that movie together," Thea said. "The one with the guy with the mashed potatoes. And the aliens."

" _Close Encounters_ ," Nyssa said.

Thea glanced at Nyssa. "You know old American sci-fi movies?"

Nyssa shrugged.

Thea glanced at Felicity in the rear-view mirror. "I am not sending you away to run off with aliens," she said. 

Felicity laughed. "I always wanted to come here, I think," she said. "My mother said it was too far away."

Thea grinned back, mostly delighted that Felicity remembered her mother.

They drove until they reached the monument's parking lot. Nyssa bought a shot glass. Felicity bought chocolate. Thea pulled out her phone and took a group selfie.

Chocolate and Doritos didn't make much of a lunch, and it was already mid-afternoon, so they headed east again. The nearest town had a little store, and they picked up a loaf of bread and some cheese. 

"Not peanut butter," Thea warned. "Felicity's allergic."

Nyssa suddenly grabbed Thea and Felicity and pulled them into one of the aisles. "Assassins," she whispered.

"Could you lure them into the beer aisle or something?" Thea whispered back.

"I'll try," Nyssa replied.

Thea grabbed Felicity's arm, slipped the food under her jacket, and sauntered out the door.

"You didn't pay," Felicity said, confused.

"I used to be really good at shop-lifting," Thea responded. "Quick, get in the car. Nyssa's coming out."

Nyssa dove into the front seat as Thea sped out of the parking lot. 

"We need to do something about those Assassins," Thea said. "I wish we could track them."

"I used to do that," Felicity said. "Didn't I." 

Nyssa turned and nodded to her. 

"But I need..." Felicity paused, as if searching for something. "I need my tablet. But I smashed it."

Thea stared at Felicity's reflection in the rear-view mirror. "You smashed your tablet?"

Felicity nodded. "I don't remember why." 

Thea wasn't sure what to say to that. "Would your laptop work? Because that's in the bag with your clothes."

"I think so..." Felicity frowned. "But it needs... wi-fi."

"But any place that has wi-fi in these little towns is a place that the Assassins could find," Thea said. 

"I remember using something... when traveling..." Felicity said.

That summer with Oliver _,_ Thea realized. Felicity had found wi-fi, somehow, even in the strangest places. But Thea wasn't ready to bring up Oliver. Especially given that something had made Felicity smash her tablet.

"We can worry about it later," Thea said. "Nyssa, is there a town that's big enough to have a Best Buy? Like... anywhere in Wyoming?" She glanced at a road sign as they sped past it. "Or in South Dakota, I guess."

Nyssa flipped through the road atlas, looking for the page for South Dakota. "Rapid City, perhaps?" she suggested. "I will use your phone to check."

Cell service was spotty, but finally Nyssa found an address. Thea nodded, then accelerated through the hills, across the state line, and onto the freeway towards Rapid City. Nyssa handed the phone to Felicity, and she got absorbed in some kind of search.

They pulled into the parking lot of a mall as the sun was starting to set. Felicity spouted a stream of techno-babble at the clerks, and soon she had a plastic-wrapped box and a huge smile. There were hotels nearby - even ones with suites - and they checked in to one of them. Felicity set up her new router and started searching the Internet for nearby takeout. Nyssa went for a walk, to scout the area for any signs of Assassins.

And Thea went into the bedroom, leaned back on the bed, and pulled out her phone to call Roy.

Roy answered immediately. _Hey_ , he said.

"Hey, yourself," Thea responded. It was the first time they had talked on the phone since running away together. Forty-eight hours apart had felt like an eternity. "Did you make it home all right?"

 _No problems,_ Roy said. _Oliver's Porsche is something else._

Thea laughed. "That's good to hear," she said.

 _How about you?_ Roy asked. _Where are you?_

"Rapid City, South Dakota, believe it or not," Thea said. "We went to Devils Tower. It was Felicity's idea."

 _No shit._ Roy sounded impressed. _So instead of being on the run from the Alternate League of Assassins, you're on a girls' road trip?_

"It feels that way," Thea admitted. "It's nice."

 _So Felicity's doing ok?_ Roy asked.

"She's doing great," Thea said. "We went to Best Buy and bought her a router. So she can have wi-fi on the road."

 _Did you find some kind of secret lotus potion at a ranch in Wyoming or something_? Roy asked.

"No," Thea said. "Mint chip ice cream and Star Trek."

 _Seriously?_ Roy sounded impressed. _Wait until I tell Oliver. So are you planning to come back to Star City soon?_

"I wouldn't say that," Thea admitted. "We haven't talked about what happened yet. Felicity's still trying to remember who she is."

 _Oh,_ Roy said. He sounded disappointed. 

"How's Ollie doing?" Thea asked. 

 _It's rough,_ Roy said. _Did you know they remodeled a room for the baby?_  

"No," Thea said. "Oh, no."

 _Yeah,_ Roy agreed. _But at least Oliver isn't in too much trouble for running off. I met his probation officer._

"You know, I forgot that Oliver is a convicted criminal now," Thea said. "Probation officer, huh? Feel familiar?"

 _A little too much,_ Roy said. _Though she's a lot nicer than mine ever was. She thinks I should get a job. And she hopes that I keep Oliver out of trouble._

"That's a change," Thea said. "How does it feel, being the responsible one?"

 _Stressful,_ Roy said.

"I bet," Thea said. "Ollie is a handful."

 _It's not that,_ Roy said. _I'm supposed to keep him from trying to solve a mystery... of his wife's missing body._

"Oh," Thea said. "Oh!"

 _Yeah,_ Roy said. _They're worried that Oliver will mess up his probation by going after the body-snatcher._

"When he actually _was_ the body-snatcher," Thea finished. "That's weird. But nobody suspects Oliver?"

 _Nobody,_ Roy confirmed. _The hospital cameras were wiped._

"Wiped?" Thea asked. "But Felicity's..."

 _Dead,_ Roy finished. _Or she was dead when the cameras were wiped._

"How...?" Thea asked. 

 _No idea,_ Roy said. _Maybe it was Talia's people._  

"Oh," Thea said. "That reminds me..."

But at that point, Felicity walked into the room. "It's working!" She was practically glowing. "Here, want to see the satellite feed?"

"I've got to go," Thea said to Roy. 

 _I'll tell Oliver you're all right_ , Roy replied. _I love you._  

"Love you too," Thea said. "Bye." She tapped her phone off, and looked at Felicity. "Show me what you've got," she said. "And I hope that I don't understand a word of it."

***

The next morning, Felicity made use of her new wi-fi to search for the perfect spot to get Belgian waffles. She was up early, reading through every comment on every social media discussion about breakfast in Rapid City. Thea yawned and smiled when she saw it. 

"I love the Internet," Felicity said, like it was some kind of greeting.

"I know," Thea said.

Nyssa was game for anything, though she wanted to make sure that Talia's people wouldn't follow them. Felicity pulled up a satellite feed and showed her the various searches that she was running on security cameras in the city.

"I think they're in the area," Felicity said. "We ought to bring our bags, just in case. But we should have time for waffles."

Nyssa laughed and helped carry the bags down to the car. 

Felicity navigated to the breakfast place. Thea grinned. Soon, Felicity and Nyssa would be fighting over the right to sit up front with her. Maybe Felicity would even be able to forge a driver's license - for Nyssa, too - and they could take turns driving. And if they didn't stop, they could probably make it back to Star City in less than 24 hours. Roy would be so surprised to see them.

They parked on the street and walked into the cafe. It looked like a recently renovated Victorian bar, with a piano in the corner and ornate carvings on the wood. The tables were small and wooden and old, and the food smelled good, maybe because it was being cooked in plain sight. Thea pulled out the menu and looked for something that would sustain her on a long drive on the freeway.

Their drinks came. Felicity tried tea this time, despite Thea's insistence that Felicity preferred coffee. And then they sat and watched the guy behind the bar do the cooking. He was tall and muscular, with a white apron over a dark t-shirt. Thea preferred short and troublesome, and Nyssa preferred women, but it was fun to watch the cooking happen. He appeared to be making omelets: pushing onions and peppers around the grill, then pouring eggs into a wide pan, then sliding the eggs around until they were ready to be flipped.

Thea didn't notice when Felicity got up from the table. Probably to use the restroom or something. It wasn't important.

Except when Felicity appeared on the other side of the bar, wielding a knife in one hand and a broom handle in the other.

Thea just stared as Felicity flung herself at the cook, beating him with the stick and stabbing him with the knife. But when the grease caught fire, Thea jumped to her feet. 

Nyssa was three steps ahead of her, pulling a syringe out of her pocket as she ran.

Thea grabbed a fire extinguisher and aimed it at the fire, and the cook, and the screaming customers as Nyssa carried Felicity out to the car. They drove out of town to the sound of shrieking sirens.


	8. I, who was once Mrs. Oliver Queen

I lay in the snow. Their footprints had already disappeared, and I was too weak to follow them. But I knew which way they had gone, and as the cold seeped into my body and my mind, I cursed them.

The gang swore to avenge me, when they left me bleeding in the whorehouse. But when the waters swirled around me and I lived again, I knew they were the reason that our planned robbery had failed. I cursed the sheriff who shot me, and I cursed them. 

I wasn't supposed to be on the blasting crew that day. The foreman added my name, late. I cursed him, and the railroad, and its financiers, and especially Leland Stanford, who owned the whole damn thing.

They cut me open. I couldn't push the baby out, so they had to cut me open and take it. He came rushing in, frantic, as they pulled the baby out of me. I could hear him yelling at them as they tried to bring the baby back to life.

 _I'm sorry,_ I whispered in my mind as I felt the shooting pains in my back. _I couldn't do it,_ _I was supposed to give you the perfect baby, the happy ending in spite of everything. And I couldn't do it. I'm so sorry, Oliver. I'm so sorry._

I curse myself.

But then the water broke over my head, and I gasped for air. Alive.

 _Do you want to live?_ The voices asked me.

 _Yes,_ I replied. _Yes. I want to live._

 _Don't curse yourself,_ they said. _Curse him._

And I do. I curse the way his muscles rippled, the way his arms felt around me, his lost look when he thought I couldn't see. I curse his guilt, the guilt that became my responsibility. I curse his tears of joy when he stared at the first ultrasound image.

I curse him.

*** 

The dreams fade, and I sleep.

When I awaken, Thea and Nyssa are arguing in the front seats. I look out the window at an endless sea of grass. I am buckled in, but seated awkwardly. My neck is sore. I need to pee.

I look down at my hands. They are dirty, crusted over with something. Blood.

And then I remember - laughing, waiting for waffles, and then seeing HIM, in the kitchen.

Except... now that I am away from it, I realize that the cook was too short. I stabbed him in the shoulder with little trouble.

"Is the cook dead?" I ask.

The car swerves as Thea brakes, surprised that I am awake. Nyssa looks back at me and shakes her head.

"The wounds were not deep," Nyssa replies. "And Thea put out the fire. He will live, with medical attention."

"We don't know for sure, though," Thea says. "So... you remember what happened?"

"Yes," I reply. "I remember beating the cook with the broomstick, and stabbing him with a knife, at least."

Thea and Nyssa glance at each other, but do not speak.

"I tried to kill the wrong man," I say. "And you know who I was really trying to kill. Don't you."

Thea sighs. "Yes," she says. "Your husband. My brother."

Ah. So that explains everything. Maybe.

"How are you connected to him?" I ask Nyssa.

"He was my husband, as well," she says.

Thea glares at her.

"He is the man who freed me from my father," Nyssa tries again. "And... a friend."

Thea nods. It is clear that they don't talk about that part of their history - or maybe about any part of their history.

"You've been telling me about myself," I accuse Thea, "but you left out some really important parts."

Thea grumbles in self-defense, but eventually, she tells me.

He was a castaway, a nightclub owner, a bad CEO, a mayor. And a vigilante. Or a hero, depending on who you asked.

I was his assistant - legally, and illegally. He stopped villains with arrows, and with his fists. I stopped them with surveillance and hacking.

We were together, on and off, for a couple years. We got married last year, around Christmas.

I found out that I was pregnant during his sentencing hearing, for vigilantism and murder.

He loves me, Thea says, over and over, even if she doesn't fill in all of the details.

"Why do I want to kill him?" I ask.

Thea and Nyssa share another glance. Thea finally answers. "It's the Pit," she says. "It makes you want to kill. They call it _blood lust_." 

"But why him?" I ask. 

"Those who are resurrected by the Pit live, but with a need to kill the person who was responsible for their death," Nyssa explains.

I frown. I had a headache, and contractions. My water broke early. They cut me open and took the baby out. I had shooting pains in my back, and then the alarm went off and I was dead.

"Women who die in childbirth desire one death in particular," Nyssa says. "The death of the baby's father." 

"And if you can't kill him, you'll go after anyone who reminds you of him," Thea adds.

"Like the cook," I finish.

"Yes," Nyssa says. 

I frown. "I don't think I like killing," I say.

"You never did," Thea replies. "You were the one who convinced my brother to find other ways to deal with his problems."

"Though he killed my father," Nyssa reminds her. "Among others."

Thea shrugs. "Felicity told him to, and it was the right decision," she says. "Though it's true that Ollie has trouble learning his lessons. He backslides. A lot."

A memory tugs at me, a feeling of guilt. _There was no choice to make_ , he had said, and from that moment I knew that it was my responsibility to save him from those bad choices.

I push the memory away. "Who did you want to kill?" I ask Thea.

"Nyssa's father," Thea responds.

"So you didn't get to kill him, because your brother did it?" I ask, trying to make sense of the story.

"Yeah," Thea replies. "Which created some complications. I couldn't kill the man who killed me, so the blood lust wouldn't go away."

"It seems like it's gone now," I point out. "So there is a cure?"

"There was." Thea seems to be avoiding a direct answer to the question.

"There was a drug. The lotus," Nyssa explains. "But it has been used. There is no more."

I frown. "So either I kill Oliver, or I keep wanting to kill other people?" I ask.

"Yes," Nyssa replies. 

"We'll figure something out," Thea insists. "Felicity will get better, and my brother will stay alive, and everyone will live happily ever after." 

She seems adamant, so we do not argue with her.

***

It is hard to stay awake. Maybe it is the drugs. Maybe it is the vastness of the grassy prairie across which we are driving.

I dream again. 

 _Find another way._  

 _Don't fight to die - fight to live._  

He put on a mask, and I told him that he looked like a hero.

He put the mask aside, and I told him that he was the man that I believed in.

Our friends were struggling with a city in chaos, while we lay on a beach, or shopped for new dishes. He had finally chosen to live, and that was the right choice, but the world needed heroes, too. So I helped the others in secret, hiding my work behind an innocent face, until finally I knew that he was ready to take on the world again.

I was lying awake, tears running down my face. Not in my bed. In a hotel room. It had been my choice, to walk - walk! - away. I repeated the scene in my head, over and over again. I had done everything I could to be his light, even when I was scared and confused myself. But how could I guide him to the right choice if he didn't trust me enough to tell me what was going on? Could I ever be light enough to drive away the darkness?

It wasn't that he didn't trust me, he said. He didn't trust himself. And I thought and thought about that, while I worried that he was dying. And although I told him that he had to figure out who he was, I knew that it was still my job to tell him who he ought to be.

I didn't want to get married. But then I saw the other Oliver, the one from the other Earth. The one who had fallen in love with evil. And I knew then that there wasn't a choice. I wanted Oliver to be his best self, and I knew he couldn't do it without me... so I married him. Regardless of my own misgivings.

The memory of the water begins to close over my head as I sink. But the voices don't stop. 

_Fight to live._

_Find another way._

I take a breath and open my eyes again.


	9. Roy

Roy had barely finished breakfast when he had a job offer. Only temporary - one of the body shops in Star City needed someone, fast, and Roy had the right keywords on his profile. But it was a job, and with Roy's history, he couldn't afford to be picky.

Oliver nodded, said "Congratulations," and went back to... whatever he was doing. It looked like some kind of doodling.

Roy paused at the door on the way out. "You know, you should try that site," he said. "If I could get a job that fast, given that I was officially dead, you shouldn't have much trouble. Just don't use _former mayor_ and _convicted vigilante_ as your keywords."

At least that earned a classic Oliver Queen Glare. Good. The moping was going to get old soon.

Roy grabbed his hoodie and left. After all, he was supposed to be the responsible adult now.

***

It turned out that the job was just for the morning. "I've got to close up shop for the afternoon," Roy's temporary boss said. "Been planning this afternoon off for a while. Thanks for stepping in and helping me get the job done, kid."

"You're welcome," Roy said. It had been kind of fun to fix a banged-up Jaguar, anyway.

"You did a good job," the boss said. "This was a tough one. Last minute."

"I'd be happy to do more," Roy offered. He hoped that wasn't too pushy.

"I'll keep you in mind," the boss replied. "In fact, you got anything going on this afternoon?"

"No," Roy responded hopefully. "You got other work lined up?"

"This one is more carpentry than body work. Or not even carpentry. Mostly holding up sheetrock." The boss looked at Roy.

"I could do that," Roy said.

"Good. I'm helping finish the inside of some of the new housing that's going up on the east end of town."

"I'll be there," Roy said.

***

Roy could do some of the work, at least. But the problem was... sometimes you have to hold the sheetrock over your head. And sometimes, if you're short, it's hard to hold it up to the ceiling.

They took a break after an hour or so. The next section - a stairwell - was going to be tough, and they needed to plan how to handle it with the number of people who were there.

"I've got a friend who might be able to help," Roy offered.

"Call him," the team leader said. "Please."

***

They had already started working their way up the stairwell when Oliver arrived. Everyone stopped and stared.

Roy tried to introduce him. "Hey, everyone, this is my friend..."

"Mayor Queen," said one of the men.

"Not anymore," Oliver corrected him.

"You ever hung sheetrock, Mr. Queen?" another asked.

"Naw, he just boards up the windows after he smashes them," another joked.

"I can stand and hold things," Oliver offered.

And he did.

And the next day, there was painting to do. And then putting up shelves. It turned out that the project was in an affordable housing development that Oliver had pushed through as mayor. That was a little weird at first - as new people joined the project, they would stop and look for TV cameras - but eventually people just got used to it. Oliver behaved and did what he was told. Plus he was pretty good with a hammer and saw. And he could get to weird places up high that other people had trouble with. Nobody mentioned that the Green Arrow had been good at that stuff, too. But they probably thought it.

***

Soon, a week had gone by.

Roy went back to the body shop a few times, when regular workers got sick or when a last-minute job came in. When he didn't get called, he worked on the housing development with Oliver.

Thea called every day, but she didn't give many details. They were alive. They were in a different town each night. No, she didn't have time to talk to Oliver, everything was fine, she would talk to him soon.

She was pretty obviously avoiding talking about Felicity. Which probably meant bad news. Not that Roy would ever tell Oliver that.

The probation officer was happy with Oliver's work, at least. Got him out of the apartment, gave him a way to help people without killing anyone. On the other hand, she was concerned about one thing.

"Mr. Queen," Nesbitt said finally. "I've been letting you grieve in your own way. But I'm concerned that you haven't arranged any kind of funeral for your wife."

Oliver nodded slowly. "But there isn't a body..." he said.

"That's true," Nesbitt said. "But you should have some kind of closure."

***

"She's right that it looks weird," Roy argued. "It's been over two weeks."

"I keep hoping that Felicity will come back home soon," Oliver admitted.

"It's going to be hard to explain either way," Roy pointed out. "Thought maybe it will be easier after you, and me, and fake Laurel, and... does anyone in Star City know about Sara?"

"Just us, now that Quentin is dead," Oliver replied.

"Anyway, that's still enough people that it wouldn't really be that weird," Roy said.

Oliver didn't quite agree, but Roy started researching Jewish funeral traditions anyway. He was relieved to discover that they could argue that the funeral should be private, and there shouldn't be an open casket, and...

"Hey, Oliver," Roy called. "We've already waited too long. You should have done this within a few days of her death."

"Huh," Oliver said, looking over his shoulder. "That never occurred to me."

"Well, you were kind of busy making her not-dead," Roy said. "But maybe we could claim that you actually already had the funeral, in private...?"

"I don't think Nesbitt would buy that," Oliver said.

"Ok," Roy agreed. "So maybe we just say you're having a private funeral now, and you're not very traditional, or something."

Oliver nodded. "Maybe." He frowned. "But I don't know how we're going to deal with Felicity's parents." 

***

 _Don't worry about Felicity's parents_ , Thea told Roy during their evening phone call. _Felicity already talked to her mom_.

"Really?" Roy was surprised. "Felicity's doing that well?"

 _Her mother doesn't trigger her blood lust_ , Thea reminded him.

"So, what did Felicity tell her mom?" Roy asked. "That must have been a tricky conversation."

 _Don't worry about it_. Thea's attempt to be reassuring was a total failure. _We've got it handled_.

***

But they were able to arrange a tiny, closed-casket funeral, just Oliver and Roy. No press. No parents. As low-key as humanly imaginable.

Roy had to buy a dark suit for the occasion. At least he'd been paid for the auto body work, he thought.

Oliver glanced over at him. "I've got a tie you could borrow if you need one."

Roy looked uncomfortable. "It probably doesn't clip on, does it."

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "You should have told me that you didn't know how to put on a tie," he said.

"Never came up," Roy shrugged. "When you used to say _suit up_ , you didn't mean like this."

Oliver nodded in agreement. "But we can start now."

So they stood beside each other in the bathroom, Roy trying to mimic Oliver's motions in the mirror.

"This shit is hard," Roy said.

Oliver chuckled. "It just takes practice."

"You have a history of saying that about a lot of things," Roy grumbled, pulling the knot apart for the seventh time.

Oliver raised an eyebrow, undid his tie, and knotted it again. His face was closer to smiling than Roy had seen since they met at the Pit.

"Show-off," Roy said. He would keep grumbling all day, if it would make Oliver feel more normal.

They were interrupted by a knock at the door.

"I'll get it," Oliver said. "You need to keep practicing."

"Yeah, yeah," Roy replied. He tried one more time as he listened to the apartment door open.

There was silence for a moment, and then John Diggle's voice rumbled through the apartment. "May I come in?"

"Sure," Oliver replied. "John. It's good to see you."

Roy poked his head out of the bathroom.

Diggle looked from Oliver to Roy and back. "You two look like you're dressed for a funeral," he said.

"Felicity's," Roy replied.

Diggle nodded. "I would say condolences, Oliver, except that ARGUS has been keeping an eye on your sister. You found another Lazarus Pit, huh."

Oliver nodded in return. He tried to say something, but couldn't get the words out.

"I know," Diggle said. "I remember how it was with Thea, and then with Sara."

Oliver took a breath and nodded again.

"So if you aren't here for the funeral," Roy interjected, "why are you in Star City? I thought ARGUS made you and Lyla move to DC."

"It's ARGUS business," Diggle said. "Someone's been killing ARGUS agents in Star City."

Roy waited a beat for Oliver to say something, but Oliver looked like he was too busy thinking about Felicity. "It wasn't us," Roy said.

Diggle chuckled. "I know that. But Lyla and I might need your help."


	10. I: geek, daughter, attempted murderer

The prairie is huge.

We find a town and stop at a used car lot. Thea sells Roy's old car (with some obvious regret), then buys a different, more expensive but less distinctive one. I wonder where all the money comes from.

"Malcolm," Thea says. "His shell corporations had shell corporations. And while he was Ra's al Ghul, he made the League of Assassins branch out from just assassinating. Money laundering, bribery, extortion - they started doing all the illegal things." She rolls her eyes.

"I knew nothing of this," Nyssa says.

"Of course you didn't," Thea replies. "All the accounts were set up to benefit him, not the League. So when you disbanded the League, he took the money and ran."

"How did you find it?" I ask.

"There were a bunch of account numbers mixed with the maps to the Pits," Thea said. "It took us a while to figure out what they meant. But now..." she shrugged. "We can buy a car without trouble. Especially a used car in the middle of nowhere."

I frown at the stack of cash. "You'll need access to Malcolm's accounts to get more," I say. "And that would let any decent hacker find you."

"If you remember that, do you remember how to do it better?" Thea asks. "Because you used to be the best in the world at finding people. And if you can find people, you could probably hide us."

So I do. Thea, Nyssa, and I all get new identities, though we'll need access to some kind of printer - something better than we could get at a Best Buy - if we want ID cards.

***

The prairie lulls me to sleep again.

I had been cooking for hours when they showed up to kill my family. There was still hot soup on the stove when I died.

The flames leaped and then surrounded me. I tried to run, but I died.

It was a long, exhausting day at work. Nobody did anything right. And then they shot me in the head, and I died.

I thought that I was invincible after my first near-death experience. But I wasn't. She snapped my neck, and I died.

I sat at home - not in the bunker, not any more - when the stabbing pains began. Contractions. I started the timer on my phone and waited for the next one. Five minutes, four minutes. They were too close together. I called for an ambulance, then looked at the screen.

 _They took a right on Willow_ , I said.

 _Are you ok?_ he asked.

 _I'm fine,_ I replied. _But those kids in the hospital won't be, if he gets away with that shipment of medication._

Suddenly the chair was wet beneath me. It was a good thing that the ambulance arrived soon after.

I wake up. I don't need to go through that story again. I know how it ends. I couldn't push the baby out, and they cut me open, and I died.

***

The next night, Thea tries to wash my hair again. This time, I sit on a stack of pillows with my head leaning over the tub. Thea fills the ice bucket with water each time, then pours it over my hair. None of the water gets into my mouth, or my nose, or...

She stops and lets me breathe for a little. I hold my shampoo to my nose for a moment, remembering the smell. This is me. I am alive.

Eventually, my hair is washed and rinsed and toweled dry, and I stand in front of the mirror, brushing out the tangles. The hair keeps pulling out, and I have to clean off the brush and try again. When I am finally done, the little wastebasket is full of my hair.

I frown at it, then look in the mirror again. My roots are showing - four or five inches of them.

Thea walks up behind me.

"I didn't dye my hair while I was pregnant..." I say. But I am not certain.

"It looks that way," Thea says. "Want to get some dye? Or look for a decent hair salon?"

I look into the mirror again. "Not yet."

***

I only try to kill one person in the next few days.

Thea and Nyssa notice the resemblance before I do - there's a man at the hotel front desk with scruffy facial hair, so they are already watching me when I lunge at him. They make excuses while they drag me away.

They don't even need to tranquilize me. Which is good, because they need me to wipe the evidence from the hotel security camera.

I find a place to print fake IDs after reading some (fairly disturbing, to be honest) threads online. Thea's new ID gives her access to Malcolm's old accounts. I hack the Rapid City Police Department and find that they have other cases to worry about, and they aren't even trying to search for the crazy blonde lady.

***

The incident with the night clerk, and the memory of the one with the cook, keep me awake for hours. But finally Thea's even breathing in the other bed calms me, and I sleep, and dream.

She looked at me from under her hair. Naturally blonde, unlike mine. "You'll never find another man that hot who cooks," she said.

She always gave me advice when I needed it. Even after I had been mad at her. She would be impossible one moment, and then the wisest person in the world a moment later.

Mothers are like that.

She looked at my hair in surprise when I got home from MIT that winter break, and then shrieked and hugged me. She never even asked what happened - just took me out for a pedicure.

She hugged me and wiped my tears when I didn't get asked to the prom, and she hugged me and danced around the kitchen with me when I got accepted to MIT.

And she got so mad at me when I didn't call.

I sit up in bed, suddenly. The moon shines through the hotel curtains.

I need to call my mother.

***

In the morning, Thea helps me find the phone that was packed with my other things.

I look under the S's for my mother's contact info, press call, and wait.

It doesn't take long for her to answer.

"Honey!! Oh, I'm so glad you finally called. I didn't want to bother you... I knew you were busy with all of your _nesting_ , it gets so crazy in the last few months..."

"Mom," I say, and then stop.

"Honey." My mother immediately changes her tone from babbling to worrying. "What's wrong?"

I stare at the phone, not knowing what to say.

"Honey," my mom says again. "Is the baby...?"

"The baby came early," I say.

My mother doesn't need me to finish. My doctor had assured me that I was at the point where the baby could live if I went into labor. But my mother doesn't care about the medical odds. She just _knows_. "Oh, honey."

There is a drop of something wet on the phone. Tears. I'm crying. It happened so fast that I never had time to cry before I died. And until now, my memories have been of the contractions and the operating room. But my mother's voice suddenly brings it all back - the excitement and the fear, the box of soft blankets and toys that she had sent, the look on...

I stop, breathe. Focus on my mother. Not on HIM. I've been practicing controlling the rage. I can do this.

"Honey, are you ok?" My mother had been so excited about being a grandmother, but in the moment, all she cares about is me.

I can't see the phone for the tears.

"Felicity, honey?" she prods me, ever so gently.

"I'm here," I choke out.

"I can leave for Star City tonight," she says. "I'll get someone to cover my shifts."

"No, mom," I say.

"Are you sure?" she asks.

She waits for me to answer. "I'm sure," I finally say. "Look, mom... I'm not in Star City right now. Don't worry about me, no matter what you hear. But I'm not there."

My mother sucks in a breath. "Green Arrow business?" she whispers. "Honey, I know you loved that work, but you need to recover..."

"I'll be ok, mom," I say. "Thea's with me."

"Oh," my mother says. She sounds a little disappointed that I turned to my sister-in-law instead of to her. "Well, that's good."

"It is, mom," I say.

"Well, if you need to talk to someone about things, or if you need me to come and take care of you, or if you need a place to hide out from all the bad guys... don't be afraid to call me. You hear?"

I nod, then realize that she can't see me. "Thank you, mom," I say. "Really. I love you."

"I love you too, sweetie," my mother says. "Take care of yourself."

"Bye, mom," I say, and end the call.

***

Thea gives me a long hug after the call with my mother. Nyssa gives me one, too - a little awkward, like hugging wasn't something that the Assassins did very much. But I appreciate the attempt.

We move on again, a different town every night. After a few days, we try eating at another diner, without incident. Thea and Nyssa make sure that I'm on the inside of the booth, and that we can't see the kitchen. I try waffles again. They're mediocre.

The Assassins who were following us seem to have disappeared. I hack a satellite to do a broader search, but find nothing.

Nyssa is not relieved. "My sister is plotting something," she says, frowning over my shoulder at the screen.

Thea doesn't disagree, but the lack of any pursuit makes choices hard - there are too many possibilities. She thinks we should still avoid crowds, and I agree.

I remember that I used to do yoga. Thea buys a couple mats and tries it with me, after pushing aside the hotel furniture. My balance is off; even downward dog feels shaky. I remember warnings from my yoga teacher about expecting too much of myself after the baby was born. But focusing on the breathing helps me, so I keep trying.

I wash my hair in the shower, finally.

We stop for gas, and Thea and Nyssa have to corral me to keep me from attacking a man who was standing in line to buy pretzels. I think I am bare-handed, but they pry my hands open and show me the souvenir pocket knife that I had grabbed from a display near the rest room. Thea leads me out to the car. Nyssa buys the knife.

I download episodes of Star Trek to watch with Thea. Nyssa is curious. She doesn't say much, but she starts sitting behind us and watching each night.

We have one of the original Star Trek episodes loaded - the one with the tribbles - when there is a knock on our hotel room door. Thea pushes me into the bathroom while Nyssa grabs the pocket knife. But then they open the door, and I hear a familiar voice.

"Lyla," Thea says. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm looking for Felicity," Lyla replies.

I open the bathroom door and step out.

"How are you feeling?" Lyla asks. "I know about the Pit."

I shrug. "I tried to kill a man for wearing a leather jacket yesterday," I reply.

"How do you know about the Pit?" Thea frowns.

"ARGUS has been tracking you since you left Star City," Lyla tells Thea. "We like to know about trouble before it starts." She looks at me. "I know you attacked a man in Rapid City," she says. "And you've been hacking our satellites."

"So you know that I'm myself, except for the part where I want to kill people," I answer.

Lyla nods. "We also listened to your phone call with your mother," she said. "I'm so sorry, Felicity." She looks like she would give me a cautious hug if I want one.

I settle for thanking her. I don't want to start crying again. "You said you were looking for me?" I ask. "Because it sounds like your surveillance is pretty good."

"It is," Lyla said. "But I wonder if someone has hacked it. Would you be willing to look at some video and tell me if it's been altered?"

"I can do that," I say. I sit back down on the couch where we had been watching Star Trek and shut down the video, then check to make sure all the security is good. I don't know what Lyla has, but I figure that she wouldn't want to share ARGUS files with anyone who would hack a hotel's wi-fi.

Lyla leans over and shows me which files she's interested in. I dig through the metadata, noting when and where the footage was collected. Three days ago. Star City.

"The metadata looks good," I tell her. "Let me just open the file and run a few more diagnostics."

I open it, check the pixels, watch the video for moments when things could have been spliced together. Finally, I am convinced... but also confused.

"Nobody's messed with it," I tell Lyla. "But..."

"I know," Lyla said. "What is Amanda Waller doing alive?"


	11. Roy

"You and Lyla want Oliver to help you?" Roy asked Diggle. "You know he's on probation, don't you?"

Diggle nodded. "We're not asking him to violate his probation," he said. "Well, probably not. It depends on some other intel we're gathering."

"Where's Lyla?" Oliver asked.

"She dropped JJ off with her family, and then went to look into that other intel," Diggle replied.

Oliver nodded. "What do you want me to do?"

"Nothing, for right now," Diggle replied. "I just stopped by to see how you're doing, let you know I'm in town."

Oliver sighed. "I'm here," he said. "Felicity's alive."

"And if we aren't careful, we'll be late for her funeral," Roy interrupted. "Can I skip the tie?"

"I'll help," Diggle chuckled. "I need to practice for when JJ needs to wear one."

Oliver looked away. Diggle looped the tie around Roy's neck and knotted it cleanly, and then Roy and Oliver left.

***

The funeral was small, as expected. Oliver tossed a clod of dirt onto the empty casket after it was lowered into the spot that had once been Oliver's grave. Maybe they should just keep that spot available for empty caskets forever, Roy thought. But he didn't say anything out loud.

They drove silently back to Oliver's apartment. Oliver led the way up the stairs and started to unlock the door when Roy noticed something.

"There's a piece of paper stuck in here," he said, pulling it out. "Or not a piece of paper. It's an envelope." 

Oliver frowned at it. It was address with only Oliver's name, in big messy letters. A kid's writing.

"It's probably not a bomb," Roy said. "Probably."

Oliver shook his head at Roy, but he opened the envelope and stared at it for a moment. Finally, he handed it to Roy to see. 

"Thank you for helping make our house!!" it said. In green ink. With a picture that may have been a guy in a hood standing on a ladder.

"That might be the nicest thank-you card I've ever seen," Roy commented.

Oliver opened the apartment door and put the envelope on the table. Roy pocketed the note. Oliver's probation officer would appreciate it. You've got to do what you can to get on their good side.

Especially if ARGUS was going to ask the former Green Arrow for help.

***

The next day, Roy worked at the body shop, and Oliver started work on another affordable housing project. It was a long day, with hard work. It felt good. And also, nobody mentioned any dead ARGUS agents, not even to Oliver. His probation officer called to check on him, but Roy only heard part of the conversation. Oliver's voice was quiet and calm - and not that scary calm that he used to get before he threatened to kill someone, back in the day.

They were going to order some takeout. Oliver still wasn't in the mood for cooking, possibly because the cookbooks were all on a shelf that prominently featured three different books about how to make your own organic baby food. Roy had flipped through them, but the recipes mostly consisted of steaming and pureeing vegetables. Which probably wouldn't be bad if he didn't have any teeth. And if he liked mushy asparagus.

So, yeah, they were about to order takeout when there was a knock on the door. Diggle. With Big Belly Burger.

Roy thought that probably wasn't good news, but Diggle still knew his order, and Roy happily grabbed his fries and started eating.

Oliver waited until the burgers were all handed out. "Lyla got the intel," he said.

"Yep," Diggle said.

"And...?" Roy asked.

"The killer is the person we thought, based on the videos," Diggle said. "Amanda Waller."

"Wait," Roy said. "I realize that I was out of touch for a while... but isn't Amanda Waller dead?"

"So was Felicity," Oliver said grimly. He looked at Diggle. "Talia."

"I assume so," Diggle replied.

"Waller's killing ARGUS agents? Plural?" Roy asked. "How did she die, again?" 

"A Shadowspire agent killed her," Oliver said.

"Shadowspire. That sounds like a horse from some fantasy book or something," Roy said.

"Bad guys," Diggle filled him in.

"So why's Waller killing ARGUS agents, if she was killed by bad guys?" Roy asked.

"What happened to the man who killed Amanda?" Oliver was a few logical steps ahead of Roy.

"He died. In ARGUS custody, four months ago," Diggle replied. "Appeared to be natural causes."

"Did they test him for Tibetan Pit Viper poison?" Oliver asked.

"No," Diggle replied. "At the time, the League wasn't on anyone's radar."

"So why is Zombie Waller after ARGUS agents?" Roy asked. "I thought the blood lust just made you pissed off and sick if you couldn't kill the right person." That's how it had worked with Thea. As far as he knew, at least. Thea never wanted to talk about it.

"Nobody knows," Diggle said. "Lyla asked Nyssa, but Nyssa didn't know how it worked."

Oliver stopped in the middle of a bite and put his burger down. "Lyla's with Nyssa? And Thea? And...?"

"And Felicity," Diggle confirmed. "That's how we found out that it was definitely Amanda Waller caught on video. Felicity confirmed that the video wasn't altered." 

"How is she?" Oliver asked.

"She's hacking," Diggle replied.

It wasn't the answer that Oliver was looking for, and both Diggle and Roy knew it.

Diggle sighed. "I don't know, man," he said. "I don't know."

Oliver didn't say anything, but his shoulders slumped.

"So what happens now?" Roy asked. "I mean, with Waller."

"I'm checking on the other ARGUS agents in Star City," Diggle said. "Trying to figure out some kind of pattern, maybe predict who she's going after next."

"What do you need from us?" Oliver asked.

"Keep your eyes open," Diggle said. "We know one part of the pattern, at least. She's only killed people who worked with her."

"You don't want my help," Oliver said slowly. "You think that Amanda Waller's going to try to kill me."

Diggle nodded and took another bite of his burger.

***

There was no sign of Waller for the next two days. Nothing on keyhole satellite imagery or traffic cameras, at least according to Diggle's info from Lyla. No dead agents. Maybe Waller had satisfied her blood lust... but that seemed unlikely.

Roy got back to the apartment one evening to find Oliver surrounded by a pile of neon post-it notes.

"John gave me the names of the ARGUS agents who were killed," Oliver said. "I'm looking for connections between them. Maybe that will help us figure out where Amanda Waller has gone."

"You know them?" Roy asked.

"A few," Oliver said. "These two worked in Hong Kong while I was there. And that group was working with Lyla while we were trying to stop Damien Darhk."

Diggle came in behind Oliver and looked at the names. "You were right," he said. "Laying them out like this helps."

Oliver shrugged. "Normally I would ask Felicity to find the connections. But..."

Roy and Diggle just nodded.

"What about those names?" Roy asked.

"I don't know them," Oliver replied.

"I do," Diggle said. "They were contractors. Worked in the ARGUS office a lot... including on the day that Waller was killed."

"Where were the rest of these people on that day?" Oliver asked.

"I'll call Lyla and see if she knows," Diggle replied.

Or ask Lyla to have Felicity hack into ARGUS records, Roy thought. But he didn't say it out loud.

Fifteen minutes later, Lyla called back. Diggle listened, then repeated the information to Oliver and Roy. All of the dead agents had been working in the ARGUS office on the day that Waller died. 

Oliver looked at Diggle. "I know who Amanda Waller wants to kill next," he said. "Lyla."

"Where are they?" Roy asked. "Lyla and everyone, I mean."

"They just got to an ARGUS safehouse in Oklahoma City," Diggle replied. "The hotel wi-fi that they'd been using wasn't secure enough, or it was too slow, or something."

Still not saying Felicity's name, though they all knew who needed that kind of bandwidth to work her digital magic.

"How secure is the safehouse?" Oliver asked.

"From Waller?" Diggle responded. "I don't know. Lyla still hasn't figured out all the things Waller set up while she was in charge."

"You should call Lyla again," Oliver said. "Now. You can use that room, if you want privacy." He pointed to the baby's room.

Diggle nodded, then took his phone into the room and shut the door.

Roy got into the refrigerator and grabbed an apple. This might take a while, and he was already hungry.

It actually didn't take long. Diggle came out of the room, looking grim.

"The safehouse is booby-trapped," he said.

"What?" Roy asked around the bite of apple. "Doesn't that keep it from being, you know, _safe_?"

But Oliver was already nodding grimly. "Destroying things was Waller's way of keeping things safe," he said. "It was always about saving the mission. Never about saving the people."

"Like the bombs that she put in the heads of Task Force X," Diggle agreed.

"So how fast can we get to Oklahoma City?" Roy asked. "We're going. Right?" He frowned. "Lyla can talk to Oliver's probation officer or something, can't she?"

"We'll deal with that problem if Nesbitt figures out that I'm gone," Oliver said. "Fortunately, Felicity hacked the GPS tracker months ago." He looked at Diggle. "Is there an ARGUS jet at the airport?"

Diggle nodded.

"We don't have weapons," Roy reminded him. "Except Diggle's guns, I guess."

"We can make some," Oliver said.

Which was probably the only thing that could have made Oliver dismantle the crib, Roy thought, as they worked through the evening, turning various pieces of wood into arrows.


	12. I, Overwatch

It hadn't taken me long to reach the limits of the hotel wi-fi. It took longer for us to drive to Oklahoma City, buy food, and set up shop in Lyla's safehouse.

Good thing I insisted on stopping to buy ice cream. Otherwise, we might have been trapped in the house with four tired women and no food. That would not have been a pretty scene.

The safehouse is the first place we've been that has an internet connection that's fast enough to simultaneously monitor traffic cameras, search ARGUS satellite images, and hack ARGUS's top-secret employee files, all at once. My laptop isn't up to the job. Fortunately, Lyla brought a carload of tech with her from DC.

I am busy setting everything up in one of the bedrooms, with a cluster of workstations on the dresser and cords running to every outlet, when Lyla comes in with a request. 

"Could you find out where each one of these people was working on January 27, 2016?" she asks, handing me a list of names.

I frown at them, wondering whether I should know them or not. But Lyla just leaves me with the computers. I know that this is the kind of thing that I have always done, and Lyla doesn't question whether I can do it. So I get to work and find the answers that she needs.

Meanwhile, Thea and Nyssa are checking out the rest of the house. It's musty, and they decide to open windows.

Which is how we recognize the trap.

One of my computers suddenly shorts out. I swear at it. Lyla comes running into the room, surprised. Apparently the particular words that I used came from one of the other voices in my head; they haven't been common since the late 1800s.

"Doesn't ARGUS get good gear anymore?" I fret.

"The workstations are new," Lyla replies.

I crawl along the floor until I find the melted plastic at the outlet. "It's this house," I say. "Bad wiring."

"It shouldn't be," Lyla frowns. "We always bring in an electrician to re-do everything when ARGUS takes over a place."

"Well, they did a lousy job here," I say.

Thea sticks her head into the room. "Something went _pop_ when Nyssa opened one of the windows," Thea says. "She's searching for signs that Talia or other Assassins have been here. But we both thought that you should know what's going on."

We are starting to work our way through the house when Nyssa comes up the stairs. "It is a trap," she says. "Look."

The front doorway, the one we had just entered, is crisscrossed with laser beams.

"Nyssa's right," Thea says. "We would trip those if we tried to get out. And I bet the other doors are the same way."

We look at the door, then at each other. "Good thing we bought a lot of mint chip," I say.

***

Thea, Nyssa, and I are already trying to figure out the various booby-traps when Lyla gets another call. I am especially concerned that the coffee maker might poison us, but fortunately, Nyssa knows her poisons quite well, and says that the coffee appears safe. Even if Nyssa prefers tea.

"I think that whoever set this up just wants us to be trapped here," Thea says.

"It was Amanda Waller," Lyla says. "Johnny says they think she's coming after me next."

"How would she know you would end up in Oklahoma City?" I ask.

"There are probably a lot of ARGUS safehouses set up like this," Lyla replies. "It would be just like Waller to design every single house so it could trap people inside, if necessary." 

"But how did we manage to trigger this one so quickly, when nothing happened to any of the other houses in the last couple years?" I muse. "There must be some kind of remote surveillance or something."

So we do another search of the house, but we find nothing. It's getting late. We drove a long way today.

"You should get some sleep," Lyla tells us.

"What about you?" Thea asks.

"I'll stay up and watch for Waller," Lyla replies.

"We should take turns," Nyssa says. "Lyla for three hours, then me, then Thea."

I cough lightly.

"You should sleep," Lyla says. "We don't know if the blood lust gets worse when you're exhausted. And besides, you've already set up image searches for Waller on both the satellite and the local traffic cameras. There isn't much more you can do."

So I go to bed. But I can still hear the others dividing up the weapons and ammunition.

***

I was dealing with yet another mission that had fallen apart. The work required a certain ruthlessness that few people could achieve, but it was impossible to do it alone. I sighed and started yet another round of paperwork.

The plan was just beginning to come together. I could see the exhaustion in the eyes of my target, the willingness to do anything to get rid of the unwanted responsibilities. All I had to do was wait.

I put down the phone. Finally. This job would be better than the last one, or the one before that, or the string going back ten years, to when I got my degree but realized that I needed to get work, any kind of work, if I wanted to support my child. I grabbed my purse and keys and went out to the minivan. School was out already, and he needed me. He didn't have anyone else.

I was helping a teenaged boy with his science homework. He was a bright kid, hard-working, both like and unlike his father, but electricity and magnetism were just plain weird.

 _They're not the same thing_ , he said. _That doesn't make any sense_.

 _Hold on_ , I said. _Let me show you_.

I typed a fast program, then installed it on my phone.

 _There's a magnetometer in my cell phone_ , I told him. _In yours, too. Take my phone and follow the cord from that lamp. See what happens_.

I turned the lamp on, then off, then on again. 

 _Whoa_ , he said. _Does it do that with everything?_

We were crawling along the floor, tracking the wiring in the apartment, when his father came home.

He turned on a light, then called our names, first cheerfully, then worried, then frantic.

We crawled out from behind the couch, and he held us tight, like he would never let us go.

I awaken, heart pounding, adrenaline flowing. Fight or flight reflex. Remembering HIM still triggers it. _I want to live_ , I think.

I count my breaths, forcing the fit to pass.

It helps that I remember, now, how to find the wiring that controls the booby traps. 

***

Thea is awake, watching the light out the window turn from grey to pink, when I walk into the kitchen.

"It's early," she says. "I haven't started the new pot of coffee yet."

"I know," I say.

"Trouble sleeping?" Thea asks. "I used to wake up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night, every night, that summer after I came out of the Pit."

"Adrenaline surge," I say. 

"Yeah, maybe," Thea agrees. "But you look like you know where you are. Or at least, where to find the coffee."

"It's a big improvement, isn't it," I reply.

"I wasn't going to say that," Thea says. "But yes."

"I know how to find the wiring for the traps," I tell her. "I woke up because I remembered. I've got an app on my phone for it."

"You... have an app to find booby traps?" Thea blinks. "That's a thing?"

"Well, it finds electrical currents. And wiring," I say.

"Where did you even find that app?" Thea asks. "Like, what do you search under?" She has her own phone out, ready to search the app store.

"You won't find it that way," I tell her. "I wrote it. I'll give it to you." I tap my phone a few times, and her phone beeps.

"You can do that?" Thea asks. "Just give me an app, just like that?"

"I can," I smile. "I wrote the app to do that, too."

"I'm just glad that you're remembering all these things," Thea says. "So how does this work?"

By the time the others are awake, Thea and I have mapped the wiring for the refrigerator, the stove, and all the kitchen outlets. I knew the kitchen would be complicated. And it seems like an easy kind of place to set a trap.

Nyssa walks into the room, frowns at us, and makes herself some tea. Lyla asks for an update as soon as she has poured herself a cup of coffee. When they have both eaten, I transfer my app to each of them - even to Nyssa, who actually uses a cell phone along with mysterious purple smoke when she needs to contact people - and show them what to do.

Within two and a half hours, we have a map of the entire house's wiring. I look through it carefully - where are there wires that don't make any sense? How is the upstairs window connected to the outlet with the computers, and how does that connect to the doors? 

Finally, I've got it.

"The power source for the doors is different from the rest of the house," I tell the others. "Which makes sense, because otherwise a brownout would cause all kinds of trouble."

"Where is it?" Lyla asks.

I point to the source on the map. 

"That's in the living room," Thea frowns. "We've looked all around there." 

"There's a cellar beneath it," Lyla points out. "We went down there once already, but maybe there's something hidden in a shadow where we couldn't see it." 

Sure enough, there's a series of batteries attached to the side of one of the joists on the cellar's ceiling. It looks like we could cut several wires at once, and that would break the circuit... hopefully without setting off any other traps. 

I grab my phone, run back up to the living room, and check. "There's something else here," I tell them. 

"Bomb, or extra lock?" Lyla asks.

"I'm not sure," I reply.

"There's an industrial fire extinguisher in this closet," Thea says. "Maybe we could just spray the contraption with it...?"

We end up prying the floor boards loose with a crowbar, coating the device in fire-proof foam, and then cutting the wires to the batteries.

The lines of light at the doors wink out.

"Wait," I warn them before they run out the door. "Check for more wires before you go out."

We have to snip three more sets of wires, probably attached to pressure sensors, before the doorways are clear. But finally, we're done. It's already 11 am, and we could use more coffee (or tea, in Nyssa's case). But we're free.

Lyla is still cautious about leaving. She makes sure that Thea and Nyssa have their bows and are set up with good sightlines to the door before she finally walks outside.

Amanda Waller steps from behind the shrubs near the street. "Harbinger," she says, raising her gun.

"Mockingbird," Lyla replies. "Though this is not an official ARGUS mission."

"No?" Waller asks. "You're using the safehouse. I thought you would follow the rules, Michaels."

"The rules are different when you're involved," Lyla replies. "What do you want, Waller?" 

"I was killed by Shadowspire," Waller says. "Because they thought that they would have a better chance dealing with you than with me."

I can see Lyla swallow. I try to remember what happened. There was a bomb... no, a lot of bombs. Nuclear bombs. A town was destroyed.

I destroyed it.

I shake my head and try to focus on what's happening. 

"Put the gun down, Amanda." The voice comes from behind Waller. HIS voice.

"Now we're all here," Waller says. She sounds satisfied. "Thank you for playing your part, Michaels."

"Amanda. Leave her alone." HE steps forward, out of the shadow of the shrubs. He isn't carrying his usual bow - it looks pieced together out of something.

"Mr. Queen," Waller says. She still doesn't look at him, but she smiles, anyway. "I see that you can't stay out of trouble, even when you're on probation."

I know the wood that he used to make those arrows. They used to be part of the crib. The baby's crib. _My water broke, and they cut me open, and I died_.

"Everything is lining up nicely," Waller says.

"Screw this," Thea says from beside me. She releases her arrow. Nyssa's flies at the same moment, from a different direction. Both hit Waller, and she slumps to the ground, tranquilized.

Lyla runs forward and grabs Waller's gun, then zip-ties her wrists behind her back. Waller may be unconscious, but Lyla clearly doesn't trust her.

Thea and Nyssa rush out of the house. I follow them, more slowly.

A huge man - I know him, John Diggle, Lyla's husband, my friend - runs out from behind the shrubs and helps Lyla move Waller's body onto the grass.

"Johnny," Lyla says, as John pulls her into a hug. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Oliver realized that Waller wanted to kill you," he replies. "So we came to help."

Thea is running down the steps. "Roy," she says, as he embraces her, then kisses him hard. It takes several minutes before they come up for air.

"If Waller wanted to kill me," Lyla says, pulling back from John, "why did she wait until I was in Oklahoma City to do it?"

I look towards the street and see HIM watching everyone. Watching me.

HIM. Oliver.

Muscle memory tells me to run towards him, to pull him down into a kiss like the one that Thea and Roy are still locked in. I have done it before.

 _My water broke early_ , I think. _I'm so sorry, Oliver. They cut me open and the baby died. And I died._

He takes a step forward. Roy and Thea finally separate and watch us carefully.

I have something in my hand. That souvenir pocket knife, the one I used to try to kill the man in the leather jacket. _I want to live_.

Oliver isn't wearing a leather jacket. Just a dark blue henley and jeans. It doesn't matter.

"I want to kill you, you know," I say. "Well, I don't _want_ to kill you. Except... oh, you know what I'm trying to say."

"I love you," Oliver says. He steps forward some more, hands out and open, eyes miserable.

The rage starts to rise. _Live_ , the voices say. _Kill him_.

I take a step back. "Oliver, you need to leave. Now."

Roy grabs his arm and drags him away. "She means it," he says.

Oliver finally goes.


	13. Roy

"You weren't supposed to come after me." Lyla sat in the passenger's seat, glaring at Diggle.

Roy glanced at Amanda Waller's unconscious body, which was wedged between Roy and Oliver in the back seat of the rented SUV. It was better than watching the Diggles fight.

"I know," Diggle replied. "But..."

"One parent per mission," Lyla continued. "That's the rule."

"The house was booby-trapped," Diggle argued. "You told me so yourself."

"And if I'm ever in a booby-trapped house again, I want to be there with Overwatch and two League-of-Assassins-trained archers," Lyla said. "We had it handled, Johnny."

Roy couldn't argue with that. Though he hadn't argued with going to rescue the women, either.

"You played right into their hands," Lyla continued. "Whoever resurrected Waller - Talia al Ghul, if Nyssa's guess is correct - wanted Oliver there."

"But Felicity didn't kill him," Roy said. "That's a good thing, at least."

That earned him three dirty looks, so Roy decided to keep his mouth shut unless he was spoken to.

"So now Oliver has snuck out on his probation - again. And you were probably counting on ARGUS to take care of that problem." She glanced back at Oliver.

Oliver gave a guilty shrug.

Lyla sighed. "We need to get Waller to an ARGUS prison - and hope that whoever is working there isn't more loyal to her than they are to me. Having Oliver along as a pilot will help get us there, at least. And then, Johnny, you need to get JJ from my parents. Apparently he's been acting out."

Diggle winced. "Again?"

Lyla nodded. "But _you_ can deal with my mother this time. Because _I'll_ need to go to Star City and figure out something to say to Oliver's probation officer."

"Maybe she doesn't know I'm gone," Oliver suggested.

Roy glanced at his phone. There were five messages. One was from the body shop offering more work tomorrow. And four were from Julia Nesbitt. Oliver wasn't getting out of this as easily as he hoped.

"I got called back to DC because of all the conspiracy theories after your trial, you know," Lyla said to Oliver. "Why did black helicopters always show up every time Star City had a crisis? Was the vigilante mayor working with a secret government agency?" She shook her head. "And now, the secret government agency needs to come up with an alibi for you. Because you and Johnny decided to take an ARGUS plane and rescue some women who didn't actually need rescuing." 

They drove in awkward silence for a while.

Finally, Oliver spoke. "How is Felicity doing?" He sounded hesitant, and worried.

It was probably the best approach to take with Lyla, under the circumstances. "She was doing better," Lyla replied. "At least, if we gave her a computer, she seemed like the same old Felicity. But she would wake up in the middle of the night. Frantic. Sometimes she didn't remember who she was. And sometimes..." She looked back at Oliver. "She still has blood lust, Oliver. Every time she sees someone who looks even slightly like you, she reacts - grabs anything that could be a weapon. She's working on it - she and Thea are doing yoga together - but she's got a long way to go." She shook her head. "And it's probably going to be worse again after seeing you."

Oliver slumped back into his seat and rode in silence the rest of the way to the airfield.

***

Lyla had brought enough tranquilizer to keep a grizzly unconscious. It was enough for Amanda Waller, too. Oliver landed the plane, and Roy just sat and waited while Diggle and Lyla delivered Waller to the prison. When the Diggles got back, they didn't say anything. Hopefully that meant that things went all right.

Oliver flew the plane to the nearest airport to Lyla's family and dropped off Diggle. At least Lyla kissed him when he left.

And then it was back to Star City. Lyla went to the hotel room that ARGUS kept ready, and Oliver and Roy finally went back to Oliver's place. Oliver poured himself a glass of water - there wasn't any alcohol in the apartment at all - and stared at it.

"She didn't _want_ to kill me," Oliver said.

"She had a knife," Roy pointed out. "And she looked like she was ready to use it."

Oliver finished his water and went into his room.

***

Roy woke to the sound of voices talking quietly in the kitchen. He pulled on the shirt lying beside the sofa bed, rubbed his hand through his hair, and walked around the partition to the kitchen.

Sara Lance was perched on the bar, legs swinging, coffee in her hand. She lifted her cup in a salute.

"Hey, Sara," Roy said, trying not to look quite as surprised as he felt. "Nice to see you not-dead."

"Same," Sara said. "It's been a while."

"Does it still feel that way when you've been traveling through time?" Roy asked. "I've always wondered how that worked."

"In this case, yes, it's been a while for me as well as for you," Sara replied.

"So where's the time machine?" Roy asked. "I've never been in one."

"It's not here," Sara said. "Some of my crew are busy in ancient Greece." She looked across the kitchen at Oliver. "Nate said that something was wrong with Socrates," she said. "He took Ray and Mick. I hope that wasn't a bad idea." She shrugged. "What am I saying. It's always either a really bad idea, or a really good idea. Though sometimes it's both."

Oliver coughed. "I sent a message to Sara. Asking for her help."

"With Felicity," Roy said.

"Yes," Sara said. "Sorry about the baby, Oliver. And about Felicity's death. We got talking about the coffee, and I forgot to say all the important stuff."

Oliver nodded.

"I can't believe you put Felicity in the Lazarus Pit," Sara said, shaking her head.

"I couldn't think of any other options," Oliver shrugged. "And you and Thea both ended up ok."

"Eventually," Sara said.

"You and Thea worked together, when the aliens were here, a couple years ago," Oliver argued. "Everything was fine."

"We were trying to stop an alien invasion," Sara pointed out. "It wasn't exactly fine."

"You know what I mean," Oliver said. "You never even thought about killing Thea."

"You don't know what goes on in my head, Ollie," Sara responded. "But no. I didn't want to kill Thea." 

"So what fixed it?" Oliver asked. "Was it finding your soul, or...?"

"I don't know what solved the problem with Thea," Sara said. "But I still wanted to kill people, you know. That's why I left Star City."

"There wasn't some kind of drug or anything...?" Oliver pressed.

"No, Ollie," Sara said. "And I don't even know if I'm better, ok?"

"You don't want to kill Thea now, do you?" Roy was suddenly worried.

"No," Sara said. "Don't worry about that. But I don't know if you ever really get better after being in the Lazarus Pit." She stared at her coffee. "I knew, all along, that Thea wasn't really responsible for my death. I blamed Malcolm. And I blamed myself, for being someone who could be a pawn in Malcolm's nasty game. So I don't want to kill Thea... but there's more to it." Sara sighed. "I can't imagine what it's like to go through that AND want to kill the love of your life."

"So getting your soul back...?" Oliver prompted.

"It helped. Of course it helped." Sara rolled her eyes at him. "It was my _soul_ , Ollie. So thank you for helping find it. But the Lazarus Pit is complicated. More than the League ever told me." She shrugged. "I don't know if Ra's ever understood what it was doing to him while it was keeping him alive."

Oliver's shoulders slumped. 

Sara sighed. "Look. I can try to help. John Constantine is traveling with my crew now - don't look at me like that, of course I slept with him - but I can't promise anything."

Roy pulled out his phone. "I should warn Thea," he said. "She doesn't like surprises. And when she's with Nyssa..." He shuddered. "Just don't ever try to plan a surprise party for the two of them. Trust me."

Sara froze with her coffee cup halfway to her mouth. "You didn't say Nyssa was with them," she accused Oliver. "That changes things."

"It's ok between Nyssa and Felicity," Oliver said. "They worked things out when Nyssa formally ended our League marriage."

Sara did a double-take. "Ollie. This has nothing to do with the fact that Nyssa's father forced her to marry you."

"He forced me to marry her, too," Oliver grumbled. 

"You're not gay," Sara pointed out. "And you weren't raised in a culture that binds women to a husband forever, on pain of death, no matter what the woman wants."

Roy frowned. "So is that why Nyssa was so weird about Thea?" he asked. "She kept almost calling her _sister-in-law_. Thea even called her on it, a few times."

"Maybe. But again, that's not the point." Sara put her coffee cup down, hopped off the bar, and poured herself another cup. "Do you have any bourbon or whiskey or anything? I need something stronger than coffee if I'm going to talk about this."

Oliver and Roy both shook their heads.

"Right," Sara said. "Because you somehow think Felicity's going to show up here and still be pregnant." She sighed. "Ok. I'll have to stick with caffeine, I guess."

Oliver looked impatient while she re-filled her cup.

"Nyssa grew up believing in the League," Sara started. "Even though it never had a real place for a woman who loves women. And she learned to fear the Lazarus Pit." She took a long sip of her coffee. "Which probably should have told her that she would never be become Ra's al Ghul herself. But somehow her father convinced her that she was his heir, _and_ that the Pit was safe for him and only him. It didn't hurt that there were all kinds of creepy stories about the Pit. It was like the warnings we used to get about drugs... except an order of magnitude worse."

Roy nodded. That fit with the things he had seen while traveling with Nyssa.

"When Laurel put me into the Pit... it must have torn Nyssa's reality apart. Not as bad as my reality was, after being reanimated by the Pit, but pretty bad," Sara said. "She wished me well when I left Nanda Parbat. But it was clear that we needed to avoid ever seeing each other again."

"That was three years ago," Oliver said.

Sara looked at Roy. "Has the time helped?"

Roy shrugged, then shook his head. "She avoids talking about you with Thea. She avoided talking about the Pits, too... which was weird, because we were on a mission to destroy them." He looked at Oliver. "And Nyssa did spend, what, three years talking like she was really married to you."

Sara nodded. "She would always hang onto traditions when things were rough. The worse that she was hurting, the more traditional she got." She sighed. "I want to help Felicity. I really do. But it's going to be awkward, you know."

"I can call Thea and warn her," Roy said. "I should do that anyway. But maybe Thea can figure out some way to get Nyssa out of the house while you find Felicity's soul, or something."

Sara sighed. "You can try. But I've got a bad feeling about it."


	14. Thea

It had been a bad night.

Felicity woke up screaming at 11 pm, and again at midnight. Nyssa finally tranquilized her, for the first time in ages. Even so, Felicity was up at six. The kitchen knives were all locked up, but she had already found the toilet plunger and was holding it like a baseball bat before Thea even heard her get out of bed.

Thea made coffee. Good coffee. Felicity settled down at the smell of it, and started to act a bit more normal. But she reacted to any sound, to any sudden movement.

It was a relief when Roy called.

Ok, so it was always a good thing when Roy called. Even when he was calling to warn her that Sara Lance was going to appear, soon, and maybe Thea should find a good way to get Nyssa out of the house for a while, just to avoid the awkwardness.

Fortunately, Nyssa now had a fake driver's license, and they did need more ice cream. And coffee, and tea. And maybe some duct tape, in case they needed to restrain Felicity.

Felicity was on one of the workstations, cycling through images from the local traffic cameras, when the portal opened and Sara stepped through.

"Ummm," Felicity said. "Sara?"

"Yeah," Sara said. She tilted her head and looked Felicity over. "How are you?"

"I died in childbirth, was resurrected by a Lazarus Pit, and now I want to kill Oliver," Felicity said. "How are you? And... do I know about that weird rectangular thing that you just stepped through?"

"No, you've never seen a time portal before," Sara said. "And I heard about the Pit, and the blood lust. And the baby. I'm sorry... about it all."

"Thanks," Felicity said.

"I've got a friend who might be able to help you," Sara said. "Mind if I bring him through?"

Felicity stiffened visibly. "Not..."

"Not Ollie. I wouldn't do that to you. Trust me on that." The portal flickered, and Sara glared at it. "I told you to wait," she said, as John Constantine stepped out.

"I don't take orders very well, love," Constantine said.

"Yeah, like the rest of my crew," Sara grumbled. "Felicity, Thea, do you remember John Constantine?"

Thea nodded. Felicity frowned, then nodded slowly as well.

"He's here to help with the Lazarus Pit effects," Sara said.

"I'm here to help look for your soul, love," he said to Felicity.

"We figured that Thea and I could go looking for it," Sara continued. "Do you mind if we set up a little ritual in here?"

Thea shrugged. "Go ahead."

Felicity nodded. "Sure."

It didn't take that long to set up, even with the salt and the charcoal and the candles and the hocus-pocus and everything. Felicity stepped awkwardly into the middle of the star-shaped markings and lay on the floor.

"So do I just close my eyes, or what?" she asked. "Sara was unconscious, I think."

"Just relax, love," Constantine said. "Sara, Thea, you can hold hands."

He said a few more things in a language that Thea didn't speak. And then there was a flash of light. And then...

They were in room full of cubicles. The partitions were beige. The carpet was blue. The fluorescent lights buzzed.

Thea frowned at Sara. "This is Felicity's version of, what? Purgatory? Hell?"

"I'm Jewish," a voice replied from the other side of a partition. "Purgatory is for Catholics."

"Felicity?" Sara called. "Are you there?"

"Of course I'm here." Felicity stuck her head out from behind the partition. "Just let me finish dealing with these files, and I'll be ready to go."

Thea walked around the partition. Felicity sat in front of a workstation, typing. She was wearing a pencil skirt and her glasses, but otherwise, everything looked normal.

Sara followed a moment later. "It's clear out there," she said. "No sign of any evil demon hackers or annoying supervisors or anything."

"Ok," Felicity said, spinning in her chair as her screen went blank. "I'm ready." She led the way out of the cubicle.

Sara looked at Thea, shrugged, and followed her.

Constantine was waiting for them. They walked up to him, and then suddenly, they were all standing in the ARGUS safehouse again.

"That's it?" Thea frowned. "I thought it would be more complicated than that."

"Felicity's soul is fine," Constantine said. "There wasn't much to do."

"I don't feel any different," Felicity said.

Constantine shrugged. "Whatever's ailing you has nothing to do with your soul," he said.

"But...?" Thea asked.

"There's more to recovering from the Lazarus Pit than getting a soul back," Sara said.

"I know that," Thea said. "But you didn't ever get the Lotus. What worked for you?"

"She shagged a lot of people," Constantine said. Or possibly offered.

"I was already over the blood lust when I had sex with you." Sara rolled her eyes. "And I don't think that's what Felicity needs." 

Felicity shook her head vigorously.

Constantine grinned at her. "Can't blame me for trying, love."

"Actually, we can," Sara said. "Felicity does not need to be propositioned right now. Go... smoke a cigarette outside, or something." She made a shooing motion with her hands.

Constantine winked at all of them. "If any of you need anything else..." he said.

"GO." Sara looked ferocious.

Constantine left. Sara leaned against the wall beside the computer set-up and looked at Felicity.

"So..." Thea started.

"So here we are, three women who have had blood lust," Sara finished.

"Any suggestions?" Felicity asked. "Because the MacGuffin that helped Thea is all used up."

Thea nodded. "I don't know how to help Felicity," she said. "Not really. We just do yoga."

"Yoga." Sara lifted an eyebrow and pursed her lips. "Can't hurt."

"But you got better without the Lotus," Thea said. "And... well, you don't seem like you want to kill me. Sorry about that, by the way."

"You don't need to apologize," Sara said. "I've been kicking your father's ass through time for what he did, to both of us."

"So is that what fixes it?" Felicity asked. "Because I'm not actually very good at kicking ass."

"Don't sell yourself short," Thea said. "It takes two people to get the knives away from you."

"Kicking ass doesn't solve the problem," Sara said. "Though it can feel awfully good. Don't get me wrong."

Felicity made a gesture that said _come on, keep talking_.

"I honestly don't know how it works," Sara said. "Except... you know the voices?"

"The memories?" Thea asked. "Yeah. I kept remembering some guy who killed 100 men at once."

"I think that was two Ra's al Ghuls ago," Sara said. "Well, three, if Malcolm counts."

"That old guy was a real asshole," Thea said. "So was Nyssa's father. The things they did to women..."

"I know," Sara said. "Let's not talk about them." She picked up a pen and flipped it a few times, like it was a knife. "I had other people's memories, too." She glanced at Thea. "Yours, actually. When you heard about the Gambit going down... that was especially hard. Because I felt like that was my fault."

"Yours?" Thea shook her head. "It was Malcolm's fault."

"I know," Sara said. "But I chose to get on that boat... I was the kind of girl who would run away with her sister's boyfriend. It wasn't my fault that the boat sunk... but I was to blame for a lot of other things. And besides, the memories and emotions that come out of the Pit aren't very rational."

Felicity just listened.

"So how did you get rid of the memories, and all the other stuff that comes with them?" Thea asked. "I mean, without help from the Lotus?"

Sara shrugged. "I had to figure out what was me, first. And then... it took nine months, maybe a year. Maybe more. But at some point, I started to figure out who _Sara_ really was." She put the pen on the table and tried to balance it on one end. "Maybe it happened when I became captain of the Waverider. Maybe it happened when I found something that I cared about, beyond revenge for Laurel's death. I don't really know."

Thea looked at the floor. "I still don't know who _Thea_ is," she said. "I mean, she fought with her mother, and was Malcolm's daughter and Roy's girlfriend and Ollie's sister. But that doesn't explain who _Thea_ is, beyond all that. I think I was afraid to find out who I was... afraid that I would be a mini-Mom, or a mini-Malcolm, or both."

"But I don't know if that - figuring out who you really are - will work for Felicity," Sara said.

"Why not?" Felicity finally spoke. "I mean, I have other people's memories, too..."

But Thea was nodding. "You're so together, Felicity," she said. "So... _good_. Good with computers, good with people..."

"Empathy is my superpower," Felicity said. She sounded bitter.

Sara glanced sideways at her. "Maybe that _is_ it," Sara said. "Maybe you do need to figure out who _Felicity_ is." She shrugged. "At least that might help with the dreams."

Felicity seemed about to say something else, but there was a crash outside the door. Sara had it open in an instant, with Thea right behind her.

Constantine and Nyssa were standing there, glaring at each other.

"Shit," Sara muttered.

And then a glowing portal opened in the middle of the living room, and a tall woman wearing a dark blue pantsuit stepped out.

"Sara," she said, "I know you said not to disturb you, but Gideon thought we needed you."

"What is it?" Sara asked. She looked less annoyed than the words suggested.

"Gideon has been tracking museum collections," the woman said. "The Louvre, the British Museum, the Met in New York."

"And...?" Sara prompted her.

"They've all suddenly acquired collections of statues of Hephaestus dating back to the 4th or 5th century BC. From Athens." She grimaced. "The statues all have a striking resemblance to Mick Rory."

"Of course they do," Sara said. She looked at the others. "I should deal with that."

Nyssa stepped forward. "Sara..." she said.

Sara looked at her, then at Constantine and the new woman. "On second thought - I'll be there soon. Please go back and... hope that Athens hasn't been renamed for the God of Fire or anything."

The woman glanced from Sara to Nyssa and frowned.

"It will be ok, Ava. I'll see you back at the ship." Sara waved her hand at them.

Ava glanced again at Nyssa, then at Constantine, and back at Sara. "Fine," she said. "But come home soon."

"Home..." Nyssa said.

"Home," Sara confirmed. "On a time-ship. I'm its captain."

Nyssa nodded slowly. "It suits you." The words sounded forced.

"It does," Sara said. "I finally found a place where I belong." She paused awkwardly. "How about you? I hear that you got rid of the League."

Nyssa nodded. "The League of Assassins is no more."

"That's good," Sara said. "I hope that's good, I mean."

Nyssa snorted. "My sister would disagree."

"Right. Because she wanted the League - or at least the Pit, and the chance to live forever - for herself. That's what you told me, at least." Sara looked at her. "But what about you, Nyssa. What do you want?"

Nyssa held her head proudly. "What I have always wanted," she said.

Sara looked up at her. "I hope that you find it," she said. "I do." She lifted a device and pressed a button. A new portal appeared. "Take care of yourself, Nyssa."

Nyssa kept staring at the empty place in the living room, even after Sara disappeared.


	15. I, a poorly defined variable

Nyssa stands in the living room, staring at the portal as if it is still there, but has closed forever. Thea and I watch her.

Finally, she turns to us. "I could use some tea."

She makes tea for all of us - tea in the style of the League of Assassins, a little sweet with some strange spices. At least, part of me thinks they are strange. But to another part of me, they taste like a home that I lost and can never get back. I don't know whose memory that one is.

Thea tastes hers, then frowns, as if trying to place the memories as well.

"When I found Sara floating in the North China Sea, I thought she was dead," Nyssa says.

We stay silent. Nyssa rarely tells stories about her past, and never talks about Sara. 

"My father sent me there. He would not say why," Nyssa continues. "Though others told me that he had met some type of seer, long ago, when my sister was young. It did not seem strange to me. All my life, my father believed in fate and destiny, that our paths were set for us before our births." She shakes her head. "I now realize that he used _fate_ as an excuse to avoid responsibility for his atrocities."

Thea nods, and I realize that Nyssa's father had used the Pit many times before Thea was brought back to life. It must be horrible to carry the memories of your killer. For a moment, I realize just how bad Thea's and Sara's experiences had been. Knowing that they recovered, despite that, gives me a glimmer of hope.

"But as horrible as he was, I will always have to thank my father for sending me to find Sara." Nyssa stares into her tea. "I have seen death in many different guises. I killed my first man when I was a child. I have seen beheadings and explosions, quick deaths and slowly festering wounds. And I have seen drownings." She shakes her head slowly. "I do not know why I chose to pull Sara's body to the shore. At the time, I felt that it was destiny."

I follow Nyssa's lead and sip more of my tea. It tastes like tragedy and homesickness.

"Her hands were tangled in a rope, perhaps from the ship that went down. I cut them free with my knife. I still had it in my hand when I tried to untangle Sara's hair, and her breath fogged the blade. That was when I realized that she was still alive." Nyssa takes another sip, then looks at her empty cup. "I wrapped her in my blanket and made a fire. When her eyes finally opened, I gave her tea. Like this."

"I can boil some more water," Thea offers. I am surprised. Thea is as bad at cooking as I am; between the two of us, we could burn every drop of water in the safehouse.

Nyssa nods thanks. "We spent cold nights rolled together in my blanket, and during the day, I fed her. When she was stronger, I offered to return her to her people, but she said no. They thought her dead, and she believed that it was better that way. So I offered her a new home. The League expects its members to shed their old lives, after all, and I had brought new recruits home many times before. But this time, the offer was not for the League. It was for me." Nyssa stands, walks to the stove, and takes over the tea-making.

We watch, silent, wondering if the story ends there. But after adding honey and spices, Nyssa comes back to the table and hands us fresh cups.

"We kissed for the first time that night," Nyssa says. "The night that Sara decided to join the League." She sips her tea. "She had never kissed a woman before. It was part of her new life, she thought. She did not know that it was forbidden in the League. I did not tell her."

I drink more of the tea, but don't speak. I am afraid that, if we speak, Nyssa will go silent again.

"Sara was always too much of a rebel for the League." Nyssa smiles to herself. "Questioning why we did things this way, or that way. Not for herself - never for herself. She felt that she deserved everything that happened to her. But she hated what the League did to me." Nyssa frowns. "We fought about that. Many times. Sara wished for the League to change, and pushed me to dream about what I could do when I succeeded my father."

Thea frowns, as if remembering. "He knew about Sara's ideas," she says. "Your father was already looking for another heir, when Malcolm dumped Ollie in his lap."

Nyssa nods slowly. "Sara and I were pawns in his game, as well as Malcolm's."

"Sara knew that," I suddenly realize. "She had memories from both your father and from Malcolm." I look at Thea. "No wonder she didn't really want to kill you, once she got her soul back."

Thea shudders. "I know he was your father, Nyssa, but Ra's was awful."

"Sara said the same thing, many times," Nyssa agrees. "And yet, it was the League that brought us together. If it hadn't been for my father's orders, I never would have found her. So I did not want her to leave the League, because that would mean leaving me. And then the League killed her." She lifts her tea cup and drains it. "Now she lives, and the League is gone. And Sara has a new love."

"I think Sara has had a lot of lovers," Thea points out.

"The woman who came for her is different," Nyssa says. "Special."

Neither Thea nor I disagree. We both raise our tea cups, as if our drinking will help Nyssa heal, somehow.

"So now what do we do?" Thea asks. "We found out Talia's plan - to resurrect Amanda Waller and send her to kill everyone - and we dealt with it."

"We follow Sara's advice?" I suggest hesitantly. "Figure out who we are. All of us." I look from Thea to Nyssa. "Maybe neither of you has blood lust, but it sounds like we could all use a little self-definition."

"I've always made fun of people who want to _find themselves_." Thea sounds a bit like the snarky teen she once was.

I nod and shrug. " _No matter where you go, there you are._ " I don't know if I am quoting some movie that I have seen, or if the phrase comes from another person's memory.

Nyssa snorts. "Americans have the most ridiculous sayings," she says.

Once again, Thea and I do not disagree. We sit in silence, not sure what to do next.

"We could play a drinking game," Thea suggests.

I yawn.

"Or maybe you could take a nap," Thea suggests. "You didn't sleep much last night."

It's true. I didn't. So I go into my room and try to get some sleep.

***

I had not wanted to go west. But my husband dreamed of gold, and so I followed him.

It was supposed to be the last robbery. After this bank, I would go home, and finally have enough to settle down and marry my girl.

I had no one, which was for the best. Those who cared too much were incapable of making the hard choices.

It was my dream job, and I knew I was lucky when the boss showed special interest in my work. Even when the special interest involved bringing me on a business trip and then inviting me to come his hotel room for drinks, and more.

I had nearly settled into my new life, with my new name and my new job and the new school for my son. Perhaps this time there would be friends - friends for me - as well as parent-teacher meetings and Little League and making healthy lunches and trying to earn enough money to pay the bills. I walked into the coffee shop and sat at a table, feeling shy but curious about the music and the company. At the end of the evening, I had tentative plans to meet my new friend someplace more private. I smiled at her as she left. But then my phone buzzed, and I read the message in growing horror.

I awaken, with a sense of missing someone. Missing many someones, all of the people missed by every person whose memories I share. I rub my eyes and wander out of the room, wondering if there is any more of that tea.

Sure enough, Nyssa is in the kitchen, making another pot. She glances at me, grabs a second cup, and pours some more.

"Thank you," I say, sipping it. The sweetness and spices are growing on me. Though I am still sleepy, caught in the memories of everyone who has been in the Pit. Maybe I'm not the one who likes the tea. But right now, I don't care.

"Thea felt restless, and went for a walk," Nyssa says.

We sip our tea in silence for a while.

"Did you rest well?" Nyssa asks.

I sigh. "Not really."

Nyssa looks at me, considering. "What is it like, to have been in the Pit?"

"You never tried it?" I ask, trying to joke. "Even as a rebellious teenager?"

"It was forbidden," Nyssa replies. "And the other Assassins watched me carefully. I was never allowed anywhere near the room."

I sip my tea and think. "I'm not sure what was real, when I was in the Pit, and what wasn't," I start.

"I mean now," Nyssa says. "You hold the memories of other people?"

"Yes," I say. "Every time I sleep, I dream about them. Except I _am_ them. And then I have to figure out which things happened to me, and which ones happened to everyone else."

"What memories do you have?" Nyssa looks at me sympathetically. "Do you feel their deaths?"

"Yes," I say. "And, wow, they were all so angry about dying."

"Every time you fall asleep, you remember dying?" Nyssa looks horrified.

"Not every time," I say. "I remember other parts of their lives, too. Like during my nap, just now." I frown into the tea cup. "Most of them were missing someone, or were hoping to see someone, when they died."

"Lovers?" Nyssa asks.

I nod. "In some cases. And wives, or husbands. Crushes."

Nyssa looks amused. "Sara used to use that word. I still do not understand it."

"A crush?" I laugh. "A crush is like... there's someone you know, or maybe someone you've just seen, and you think they're attractive or nice, and you start thinking about them a lot. Sometimes, you have fantasies."

"Sara said that crushes had to do with TV shows, and movies," Nyssa remembers. "She made me watch the Star Wars movies with her. She said she used to have crushes on both Han and Leia."

I smile. "That's not surprising."

"She said she had never admitted it, though, before she met me." Nyssa looks into her cup.

"I'm sorry that it didn't work out." That doesn't sound quite right, so I try again. "I'm sorry that Sara was killed. And I'm sorry that you couldn't get back together after she came back."

"That was my decision," Nyssa says. "I chose to believe the League's stories." She shakes her head. "But perhaps I was wrong."

She puts down her empty cup. I set mine down, as well, and step forward to offer her a hug. She accepts it, less awkwardly than the last time.

On a whim, I pull her face down and start to kiss her.

It's a strange kiss. There's no scruff, and each of the people in my head have their own memories of kisses. The robber remembers both his fiancée and his favorite whore. The woman who died in the snow remembers a shaggy beard. And besides the specific memories, there are many with confused longings.

I tug at Nyssa's shirt. She pulls away and looks at me carefully.

"This is not you," she says. "Felicity Smoak. MIT Class of 09."

I shake my head. "How do you know that this isn't me?"

"I have kissed other women," Nyssa reminds me. "Women who had never lain with another woman before. If it is something they truly want... there is a moment when the kiss changes." She picks up my tea cup and hands it to me. "Perhaps one of the others who share your mind loved women. Or was like Sara, and was curious and attracted to everyone." Her face is kind. "You are not Sara."

"I wasn't trying to be," I say. Though honestly, I am not certain who, exactly, I was trying to be. Nyssa is right - it is one of the others who was excited, hesitant, curious. But it wasn't me.

We are still standing there, silent, when Thea walks in. "I found some take-and-bake lasagne at a little catering place," she starts. Then she looks at us. "What's going on?"

"We are trying to discover who we are," Nyssa answers. It's as good of an answer as any.

***

We eat lasagne with red wine. The safehouse has several streaming services, and we find a silly sci-fi movie and watch it on the television. When the movie is over, I feel more certain of who I am. Felicity Smoak, MIT Class of 09. A completely ridiculous geek who could hack your bank account even after an entire bottle of wine. Which I don't do, of course. But I could. If I wanted to.

I sleep deeply at first, but eventually the dreams come again.

We had been married on the plains. I had hoped to settle down and farm, but one morning, I woke to find him packing. There was gold in California, he said. And so I went with him.

There was a knock on the door, and then another. I got out of the whorehouse bed and pulled on my pants. The gang was here, waiting for me. Today was our last robbery, and it was time to go.

My orgasm subsided, and I rolled away. He was skilled, and pleasantly muscular, unlike his father. Perhaps I would have enjoyed this even without the sweet taste of power and revenge, of turning the tables and being the one in control, finally, for once. I pulled on my clothes, opened the door, and smirked. His little assistant, the one he planned to seduce, who didn't even realize that he called her name while making love to me...

I am sitting up before my eyes are even open. That was not my memory. But I had been there when the door opened.

Oh, frak.

I leap out of bed and go searching for Nyssa. She isn't in the kitchen, but Thea is.

"What's the matter?" Thea asks. "You look like you've just seen a ghost."

"Where's Nyssa?" I don't have time to explain.

"She walked to the store to buy more tea. We went through a lot of it yesterday." Thea frowns at me. "Why...?"

"Amanda Waller wasn't the only other person that Talia resurrected," I tell her.

"Who else...?" Thea's eyes get wide. "You have their memories."

"Yes," I say. "And one of them, a really icky one, was killed by Nyssa." I take a breath. "Isabel Rochev."


	16. Thea

"Isabel Rochev?" Thea stared. "Shit."

"Yeah," Felicity agreed.

"I'll... text Nyssa and warn her. Could you do whatever it is that you do with cameras? Like, is Isabel actually here, in this city? Or is she wandering around Wyoming waving swords at antelope?" Thea shook her head.

"I'm on it." Felicity pulled her hair into a messy bun to get it out of her face and headed for the computers.

Thea took out her phone and tapped a message while waiting for the coffee to finish perking. Nyssa didn't respond. Thea swore and tried calling her, instead. Still nothing. She poured two mugs of coffee, doctored one to Felicity's usual order, and tried calling again.

Nothing.

Felicity was sitting in front of her row of screens, watching images flash past. Thea handed her the mug.

"You're a goddess," Felicity sighed. When Thea didn't respond, Felicity looked up, worried. "You couldn't find Nyssa."

Thea shook her head. "Nope."

Felicity typed something incomprehensible, and one of the screens shifted to show the entrance to the nearest grocery store.

Thea frowned. "Why is everyone walking backwards?"

Felicity glanced at her. "I'm running the recording in reverse. To see if Nyssa ever arrived."

Thea rolled her eyes at herself. "Right. Need more coffee."

Felicity lifted her mug in a salute, then typed a few more commands. The people on the screen started moving at high speed.

"This would be funny if I weren't worried about Nyssa," Thea admitted, watching the carts backing up through the automatic doors.

They watched the screen in silence for several minutes.

"When did Nyssa leave the safehouse?" Felicity asked.

Thea thought. "I think it was a little after 7," she replied.

Felicity slowed the video enough to see the time stamp. "There's no way she could have arrived before this." She typed few more commands, and several windows showing street intersections appeared. "I'll run the traffic cameras backwards. And I'll start facial recognition working on older images. Maybe I'll be able to figure out where Isabel has been hanging out."

"At least Nyssa is a badass and killed Isabel once before," Thea said. "Right?" 

"And hopefully the Lazarus Pit wipes out mirakuru like it takes care of myopia," Felicity said. "It would suck if mirakuru behaves like pregnancy hormones."

Thea shuddered. "I'm going to get my bow. And every weapon that Nyssa has packed." There were a lot of them.

"Lyla left a gun here, too," Felicity said.

Thea blinked. "I didn't know that."

"It was hidden," Felicity continued. "I don't know who she thought would find it. I can't imagine it was for me."

Thea wasn't so sure. Lyla didn't leave many things to chance. But she was glad for whatever weapons they had. In fact, she wished that Lyla had left them with a grenade launcher, too. But a gun, arrows, and swords would have to do. She ran upstairs to collect everything.

***

By the time Thea returned, Felicity had several candidate images up on her screen, and was doing something to make them easier to see.

"Nyssa?" Thea asked hopefully.

Felicity shook her head. "But the only camera between here and the grocery store is down," she said. "I should have checked it earlier. It's been down for a while." She pointed to one image. "This is a gas station outside the city. It was taken three days ago." Felicity clicked on another image. "This is an ARGUS keyhole satellite image from the next day. From one of the other suburbs."

"And the others?" Thea asked.

"I'm not certain about them. The facial recognition software only had 20% certainty of a match. But they're in the city, too."

"So we should assume that Isabel is here. And that she's the reason why Nyssa isn't answering her phone," Thea concluded.

Felicity nodded. "I'm doing a satellite image search of the area, but I get errors from everything in our neighborhood." She pursed her lips. "It may have something to do with Amanda Waller's booby-traps. Or it might be something else. But we're flying blind."

"Wait," Thea said. "What's that?"

Another image had popped up on the screen. A figure turned towards the camera, smirked, and waved.

"We found her," Felicity said. 

"She wanted us to find her," Thea noted.

Felicity nodded. "So it's a trap. But we still need to rescue Nyssa." Isabel had pulled a body into view. Nyssa glared at the camera, and then at Isabel.

"Can you freeze the image?" Thea asked. "And figure out what's around there?"

Felicity grinned at her. "I might not remember a lot of things," she said. "Or too many things, at this point. But I'm pretty sure that, once upon a time, I was insulted when people asked me things like that."

***

If Isabel wanted a confrontation - and that wave at the camera said that she did - there were a couple options in the neighborhood of that traffic camera. The first was a mini-mall with an alley behind it. If Isabel still had super-strength, it was full of garbage cans that she could throw. On the other hand, there were a few trees and dumpsters that could offer concealment. Did this reanimated Isabel know that Thea had become an archer, or that Felicity had all of Amanda Waller's memories of firing a gun?

On the other hand, there was a skate park in the other direction. It was still early, and the park would probably be empty. And the shapes of the bowls had weird sight lines. But once the targets were spotted, it would be difficult to find cover.

Felicity shrugged, hacked an ARGUS satellite, and set it to monitor both places. They grabbed their weapons and Felicity's tablet, climbed into the car, and headed out.

The alley was empty, except for a guy taking out the trash behind the liquor store. So they got back into the car and headed for the skate park. 

Nyssa was zip-tied to a rail, out in the open, where anyone could see her. Thea glanced at Felicity, who shook her head. The satellite hadn't picked this up. Which was bad news, because it meant that they were essentially blind. And Nyssa's hands were tied separately, not together, which meant that the thumb-dislocation trick wouldn't work. Thea ran forward, knife unsheathed, and started cutting Nyssa free.

"It's a trap," Nyssa said, looking over Thea's shoulder.

"I know," Thea replied. "It is just Isabel? Or does she have minions? She seems like the type to have minions."

"I have only seen Isabel Rochev," Nyssa said. "But she used League darts to tranquilize me, so she has allies. I do not know if they are nearby."

Felicity stood away from them, holding Lyla's gun, scanning the area. Thea had almost finished cutting through Nyssa's second zip tie when Felicity called out the planned warning signal. Thea shoved a knife into Nyssa's hand, picked up her bow, and turned to face the threat.

Isabel wasn't wearing a mask, but she was carrying her pair of swords. She had a gun at her hip, too, Thea noticed.

"Hello, ladies," Isabel said. "It's nice to see all of you in one place."

"You're out-numbered," Thea pointed out. She hoped she was correct.

Isabel just smiled. "A restrained former Assassin. An ex-secretary with badly dyed hair. And Robert Queen's little girl... or is it Malcolm Merlyn's little girl now?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Thea saw Felicity raise her gun, and decided to keep Isabel talking. "Versus the bitch who seduced my father and tried to steal my family's company," Thea said.

Isabel shook her head at Thea. "Oh, there are so many things wrong with that statement," she said. " _Father._ " She made scare quotes with her swords. "But you know about that one."

"I do," Thea said. "But you're still a bitch."

Isabel laughed. "Oh, I'll own that one," she said. "But _seduced,_ now." She raised her eyebrows. "How much power does an intern have, when her boss invites her to a hotel room? How easy is it to walk out on the man who owns the company?" She glanced at Felicity.

"You wanted my father to run away with you," Thea said, trying to draw Isabel's attention back to her. "You tried to get him to leave my mother and me."

Isabel grimaced. "That was my last chance. It was the end of the summer, when the interns find out if they get a real job. I didn't get one." She glared at Thea. "I went to Robert's office and demanded to know why. After all, we had been sleeping together for two months. He just leaned back in his chair and said that my work had been mediocre." She shook her head. "I was the best damn intern he had seen in years. He'd been telling me that, every time he got me alone, until I finally kissed him back. But suddenly, it was over. All of it."

Thea tried not to look at Nyssa. Was she free from the rail yet? "That's not what you told Oliver."

Isabel rolled her eyes. "Oliver wouldn't have understood the truth. Plus the lie hurt him more than the truth ever would have."

"So what really happened?" Thea asked.

"I threatened to expose our affair to his wife. Robert just laughed at me. Moira knew about his extracurricular activities, he said. And if she ever turned on him, he would tell her that he knew about her relationship with Merlyn."

"And that was it?" Thea asked.

"Oh, no," Isabel continued. "I threatened to go public about the way he used his interns. I had been listening to the whisper network, you see. I wasn't the first to be pressured into a relationship with him." She pointed her swords at Thea. "That's when he got the call about your accident. And you know what he told me when he left?"

Thea glared at the swords. "What."

"That nobody would ever believe me. He was a family man, taking care of his wife and daughter. I was a gold-digging slut who was trying to make it in the business world on my back. He had the paperwork - the mediocre employee evaluations, the weak recommendation letters. And he had witnesses who would say that I had pursued him." Isabel shook her head. "Poor Thea. And you thought he had loved you all this time. You were just a cover for him - an alibi for his morality, once Oliver was too old and troublesome to sway the public towards Robert's side." 

"It is unfortunate that you were forced to take your revenge against the rest of Robert Queen's family," Nyssa said. Her hands were still behind her, as if they were attached to the rail. "Perhaps your vengeance against the father was justified. But Moira and her children played no part in your abuse."

"But they did," Isabel said. "They were the props that allowed Robert to force himself on his employees. They let him look good for the media."

"You got your revenge," Thea said. "Queen Consolidated doesn't exist anymore."

"True," Isabel said. "But I didn't live long enough to enjoy your family's downfall." She frowned at Nyssa. "Because of you." She dropped one sword and reached for her gun.

Thea raised her bow. "Don't," she said.

An arrow flew out of one of the skate pools and knocked Thea's arrow loose from her bow.

"Assassin," Felicity said, a moment too late. "Sorry. I am watching, I swear."

Isabel smirked. "Felicity Smoak," she said. "You think you're one of my targets. But I don't need to worry about getting revenge on _you_. You'll get yours."

A knife flew from where Nyssa was standing, and hit someone - presumably the Assassin - with a wet thud. Thea grabbed another arrow and fired it at Isabel. Isabel parried it with her sword, smiled, and moved towards Thea. She was closing the distance too fast, Thea thought, as she reached for another arrow. But Felicity had a gun. At any moment...

Another knife flew through the air and lodged in Isabel's throat. "Enough talking," Nyssa said.

Thea shot her second arrow, then a third, then a fourth.

When it was over, Isabel Rochev looked like a rather gruesome pincushion.

"I hope that was the only Assassin," Thea said, as she stepped around Isabel to look down into the pool. She glanced back at Felicity.

Felicity was still holding her gun, aimed at Isabel. But her eyes weren't focused on anything.

"Felicity?" Thea called. "FELICITY??"


	17. I, EmpathyGirl

I was standing in the Queen Consolidated office. Oliver's office. No. Robert's office. I carried a sheaf of papers, and he - Robert, not Oliver - he moved slowly towards me, reaching out to touch my arm...

I walked into Robert's hotel room, planning how I would present my ideas for the company's future. He opened the door, wearing only a towel, and smiled. And there was nothing I could do but smile back.

I stood in the office again. Furious. Powerless. Listening to him cast me aside. Swearing to myself that I would not fall for those tricks, never again. I left with nothing but my pride, and my determination, and the small angry seed that would become my vengeance.

"Felicity?" Thea's voice barely penetrates through the memories. "FELICITY???"

I blink, and blink again. I am not an intern who has been fired by the man who pressured her into sex. I am Felicity Smoak, MIT class of '09, and I am holding a gun.

I do not shoot.

I walk towards Isabel. I hated her, once. I ran her over with a van.

Her anger and pain and frustration well up inside me again.

I lower the gun.

Isabel opens her eyes. Still not dead. She stares at me. "I wanted to live," she whispers.

I nod. I know.

She starts to laugh. It's really more of a gurgle. "You understand," she croaks. "Now, you finally understand." She coughs. Blood dribbles from her lips. "You thought you won," she murmurs. "You reeled him in, snagged him with your short skirts and your innocence. You were going to have his baby. You thought you had him forever." She gasps a few times. "But it never works out. There would be another one, younger, more innocent. He takes after his father, you know." She laughs again. "You could go back to him. Or you could kill him. But either way, you will never be free." She sighs. "Never. You'll never be free."

Isabel suddenly stands. No, she is lifted. By Nyssa, who breaks her neck with one quick twist.

"Enough," Nyssa says. "This one has always spoken poison."

Thea steps around me. "We need to do something with the body," she says. "Good thing we have a car."

***

"You should have shot her," Thea argues.

We are burying the body in the backyard of the ARGUS safehouse. Hopefully Lyla won't mind. After all, Isabel has already died once. Almost twice.

"Felicity has Isabel's memories," Nyssa responds. "It cannot be so easy to kill in that situation."

"I actually get that. I came out of the Pit, too," Thea says. "But I would still kill your father if I had a chance. Memories and all."

I dig another shovel-load of dirt and don't respond. Isabel's memories are unsettling, if only because I had stood in that exact same office, arguing with Oliver, not sure if I wanted or feared what I saw in his eyes.

Thea frowns at me. "She was wrong," she says. "About Ollie. You know that, don't you?"

I don't know that. I don't know anything. I certainly don't know how I feel about any of the things Isabel said. Or experienced.

That's the worst of it.

"I didn't like Isabel," I finally say. "I never liked her. I ran her over with a van... and I don't regret that. But..." I look at the shovel. "I remember the things she went through. They don't excuse the things she did." I shake my head. "It's just... I also understand. You know?"

Thea shakes her head. "John Diggle always said your super-power was empathy," she says. "But it's really misplaced this time, Felicity."

We replace the sod, turn on the sprinklers, and return to the house.

Nyssa makes tea. I know there isn't much left, and she'll need to go to the store again. I appreciate the gesture.

"I wasn't much of a rescuer," I finally tell her.

"You knew to look," she said. "We do not expect you to fight, Felicity Smoak."

I shrug. "Lyla did. She left that gun. Probably for me."

Nyssa frowns. "Lyla did not leave a gun for you. Before she left, she reminded me that we needed to keep all weapons away from you." She gets up from the table. "Show me where you found it."

It had been in a drawer in one of the rooms upstairs. I ran across it while searching for other, un-sprung traps. I show Nyssa the place, and explain how I found it. 

"The gun is the trap," Nyssa says.

Thea, who followed us upstairs, frowns. "I wonder what other traps are here."

We search the room, and then the other rooms. But we don't find anything else. 

"I don't even know what we're looking for," Thea complains. "Bombs? Guns?"

"Poison," Nyssa suggests. "Treachery."

We look at her.

"My sister is behind this," Nyssa explains. "That Pit was one of her strongholds."

Thea nods. "Is she into grave-robbing?" she asks. "Because Isabel's been dead for years. Even longer than Amanda Waller was."

"She is ' _into'_ vengeance," Nyssa says. "And power."

"So what would she do next?" Thea asks. "She went out and found the bodies of people who would have grudges against us. Amanda Waller and Lyla. Isabel Rochev and you."

"She's targeting Oliver," I say. I hadn't realized it until that moment.

"So she might have brought back Adrian Chase?" Thea suggests. "Or, I don't know, Damien Darhk's wife?"

"Thomas Merlyn," Nyssa suggests. "It would be like Talia, to use a dearly beloved friend as a pawn to inflict pain."

"She's not going to bring back Tommy." Thea sounds certain. "Felicity covers the death-by-loved-one angle." She looks at me. "It's true, you know. Talia wants you to kill Ollie. Which means that she is more likely to reanimate people who will target the rest of us. Everyone except Felicity."

"She wants to kill all of Oliver's friends," Nyssa agrees.

Until there is no one left to keep me away from him. Blood rushes in my ears. _I want to live_ , I think. _I want to live_.

"Felicity!" Thea is shaking me. "Where did you go?"

"I'm here," I say. "What were you saying?"

"We were trying to figure out who else Talia might have brought back," she says. "People who would target Ollie's friends. The people that I killed, while I had blood lust, maybe?"

"Oliver has other protectors, as well," Nyssa reminds us. "Roy Harper. John Diggle."

"John killed his brother Andy," Thea remembers.

"And Roy killed that cop," I say. "When he was on mirakuru."

Nyssa is watching me.

"What?" I say.

"Talia misjudged," she says. "We have a way to discover her other weapons."

Thea looks at me as well. "Felicity," she says, "I hate to say this. But it's the only way to get ahead of Talia."

I frown back at her. The blood is still roaring in my ears.

"You've got their memories," Thea reminds me. "You came out of Talia's Pit. You can figure out who they are... and then we can find them, before they find John, or Roy, or us."

***

The dreams have been following me, invading my sleep, even sliding into my waking hours. And now that I want them, they won't come.

I am trying to nap. Nyssa has gone back to the store. Thea is watching my computers - I set up windows for every surveillance system that I could think of, and told her to wake me if she saw anything suspicious.

I am tired. That's not the problem. But every time I get close to dreaming, I hear Isabel saying that she wanted to live. I feel her anger - at Robert, and Thea, and Oliver. And especially, at dying the first time Nyssa killed her. And I feel her determination when she emerged from the water and breathed again.

It's the same determination that I felt. That I feel. _I want to live_.

What came from Isabel? What, for that matter, came from Amanda Waller?

What - besides the computer knowledge - comes from me? 

I finally give up and go into the computer room. 

Thea looks at me. "You couldn't sleep," she says.

I shake my head. "Sara said that I need to figure out who I am," I confess, "but I don't think I'm getting any closer to the answer."

"It's only been a few weeks," Thea reminds me. "It takes time."

"Could you tell apart any of the people in your head? Ever?" I ask her.

Thea shrugs. "Mostly it was Nyssa's father, I think. And he was just paranoid about people trying to take over the League." She laughs. "Fat lot of good that did him, huh."

"There were a lot of people in this Pit," I tell her. "Outlaws, railroad workers." I frown. "I guess it hasn't been here that long, though. It's mostly white people, from the 1800s at oldest. No Native Americans."

Thea looks at the screens. "We should ask Nyssa about the history of the other Pits," she said. "Like, were they started during arguments about who got to be the next Ra's al Ghul, or something. Maybe this one was built when Nyssa's father took over the League." She shrugs. "I still don't understand the rules for becoming Ra's al Ghul. Did anything that Malcolm did with Ollie - and me, and Sara - ever make sense to you?"

I frown, trying to remember. Someone's memories - Amanda Waller's? - keep getting in the way. "I don't know," I finally say. "I think I was too busy hating Malcolm to try to make sense of him."

Thea sighs. "It's probably a good thing that I don't have his memories," she says. "It's hard enough deciding whether I hate him as it is." She glances at me. "I guess I do understand why you couldn't shoot Isabel," she admits. "But I still think you're a nicer person than I am."

I appreciate the thought, and give her a little half-hug. But I think that she remembers some perfect person who never actually existed.

If Thea's version of Felicity was real at one time, I don't think that Felicity is around anymore.

***

Nyssa returns from her grocery expedition with makings for salad and some kind of traditional League-of-Assassins meal. It was a favorite of Sara's, she says. She hadn't eaten it since Sara died. At least one of us is re-discovering herself, I think.

It's delicious, though Nyssa apologizes for having to substitute many of the traditional ingredients. Thea is thoughtful during dinner, as if trying to work out whether Ra's liked the dish as well as Sara did. I take seconds. After all, it is the first real meal I've eaten all day.

After dinner, Thea and I wash the dishes, and Nyssa finds a comedy to watch on Netflix. We eat popcorn and chocolate and stay up late. 

And then, finally, it's time to stop avoiding sleep.

I lie in the bed and stare at the ceiling. _I want to live_ , the voices in my head say.

I try counting the memories.

The woman who died in the snow. The bandit who died after robbing his last bank. The man who helped build the railroad. The woman whose family was killed in front of her. The mother who had been forced to move. The reluctant bureaucrat... that one was Amanda Waller. The intern... Isabel Rochev.

No memories of police work in Star City, or of fighting in Afghanistan. So maybe Roy and John were safe. Or maybe Talia had other plans for them.

_I want to live._

Well, right now, what I really want is to sleep.

I decide to try my version of counting sheep: reviewing the different syntax used in every computer language that I know. I make it all the way to Fortran before the programs stop making sense.

The snow fell around us. I staggered out of the wagon and vomited, and then shivered.

The children were hidden. They found them, anyway, and killed them before they killed me.

I stared at the pee-stained strip. Positive. I should have guessed when I missed my period the first month. It shouldn't have taken another month and a half, and the feeling of exhaustion, and the nausea when I skipped breakfast. But I hadn't wanted to believe it.

I wasn't even with anyone. Not really. Just that one-night stand, the hot guy in the bar after I finished taking my organic chemistry final. I explained alcohol to him. He told me that he knew about chemistry, and we clearly had it, and did I want to be... _Exothermic_ , I told him. He was a cute drunk. Dumb, he told me. Dropped out of four colleges. I thought about the debt involved, but it didn't seem to be a big deal to him.

I called him at home after the pregnancy test. He asked if there could be a mistake. I told him there couldn't, and tried to explain the chemistry behind the test, but he didn't want to listen.

I think his mother wanted me to get rid of the baby. But I couldn't. I wanted to be an ob/gyn because I loved babies, and I wanted to bring them into the world. And besides, I was Catholic.

So I lied. (And then I confessed about lying.)

And I gave up my dreams of being a doctor.

But at least I brought one baby into the world.

I would do anything for him. Give up my dreams. Leave my home and name behind. Run into an exploding forest.

I blink awake, sitting up, tangled in my sheets. I know who else was resurrected by Talia. I climb out of bed, run down the hall, and pound on Thea's door.

"I didn't order pizza," she mutters. "Roy, did you order pizza?"

I open the door. "Thea. Wake up," I insist.

She sits up. "Felicity. What...?" She shakes her head, trying to wake up. "You figured out the other people. The ones Talia is using to kill us."

"Yes," I tell her. "And we need to go to Central City." 

"They're after Barry?" She frowns. "Did someone figure out that he screwed up their lives?"

"Not Barry," I say. "William."

"William?" Thea looks confused. "William never killed anyone. Why would someone want revenge on William?"

"Because the Pit isn't rational," I tell her. "Its blame doesn't make any sense. Like me wanting to kill Oliver because I died having his baby."

"Then who...?" Thea asked.

"Samantha," I tell her. "Samantha Clayton. She's the other person I've been dreaming about."


	18. Thea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this story, Central City is geographically Denver. (I know, the waterfront in the Flash is obviously wrong for Denver.) Reasoning: there's an old gold-mining town (now a casino town) in the mountains above Denver named Central City, and that connection sticks with me. I write Star City as if it's geographically where Seattle is. (I realize that there isn't a good, fast, direct train between Denver and Seattle, so the geography falls apart if you try to map the shows.)

Felicity set up her computers to do surveillance around Central City. Her laptop already had something to keep an eye on William, it turned out. Thea looked over Felicity's shoulder at the images that had been saved.

"Have you been secretly watching William all this time?" Thea asked. Some of the pictures were really recent.

"It was running in the background whenever the computer was on," Felicity said. "I didn't remember that it was there until just now. I... um, I think I was hiding it from Oliver, so he wouldn't accidentally say anything to his probation officer." She looked slightly sheepish. "I remember hoping that I would find something that would let William come back."

Felicity's snooping did sound a bit problematic for Oliver's probation, Thea agreed. But she didn't say anything. After all, Felicity was talking about Oliver without reaching for a knife. That was a good sign. Probably.

Searching for Samantha, on the other hand, was more complicated. Felicity didn't trust the ARGUS satellite data to be complete, and after the traffic cameras had failed to track Isabel, Felicity was worried about them, too. She hacked into Star Labs' computers, but they were more interested in metahumans than undead mothers. Finally, Felicity called Lyla and asked for any analysis that ARGUS might have. When she was done, she handed her phone to Thea.

"Lyla wants to talk to you, too," Felicity said.

"Hi," Lyla said. "I just left Star City. Roy is fine, and I convinced Oliver's probation officer that it would be ok if he worked as a consultant for unnamed government agencies from time to time. But Oliver is skating on thin ice right now."

"So you're saying...?" Thea thought she knew, but she needed Lyla to spell it out for her.

"Don't tell Oliver about Samantha," Lyla said. "Or about Felicity's suspicion that Samantha might have been resurrected in order to threaten William. You know Oliver - if he knows this is going on, he'll slip out on his probation again. He needs to sit tight and stay out of trouble, and let other people handle things for once. Or he won't be able to do anything for anyone - not William, not Felicity, not you."

"Don't you think he deserves to know about threats to his son?" Thea argued.

Lyla sighed. "Yes. And I realize that he will be mad at all of us if he finds out."

"When he finds out," Thea said.

"Ok. When," Lyla agreed. "But Oliver Queen has a long history of keeping secrets from other people for their own good. For once, he can trust his friends, rather than expecting his friends to trust _him_."

Thea wasn't sure it was a good idea, but she agreed to keep the boys in the dark for now.

***

After letting the surveillance run for half of the day, Felicity convinced Nyssa and Thea that they should just pack and head for Central City. It was a 10-hour drive away, after all, and none of them had access to a plane. And Felicity seemed to feel guilty that she hadn't figured out the clues earlier.

They drove for five hours before the sun set. Felicity sat in the back seat with her tablet, muttering about the cell signal. Nyssa sat in the front, sharpening her knives. And Thea drove, squinting into the sunset.

They were arguing about where to stop and eat when Felicity's phone buzzed.

"Lyla?" she said. "Yes, we're driving." She paused. "Just send me the coordinates. We're already going in that direction." She tapped on her tablet. "I've got it.  Thanks. Yeah, you take care, too. And hopefully we won't need back-up, but thanks for the offer."

"Where are we going?" Thea asked.

"Into the mountains," Felicity answered. "ARGUS thinks they've found a new League hide-out, based on keyhole satellite analysis. The activity has been going on for a while, but it got more active after you destroyed the other Pit."

"Lyla expects us to take on the entire League?" Nyssa asked. "I believed that Lyla was wiser than that."

"She offered back-up," Felicity said. "And it sounds like there aren't that many people. Five, maybe. Either Talia doesn't have that many people working with her, or they're scattered around the world."

"Or Talia is keeping them hidden," Nyssa said.

"Why's Lyla sending us to this spot?" Thea asked.

"It's close to Central City," Felicity replied. "And it looks like they've got someone there who isn't an Assassin. They brought her in, unconscious, a few weeks ago, just before the activity ramped up. She's been outside walking around lately."

"So Lyla thinks they've found Samantha," Thea said.

"And they've figured out the daily pattern," Felicity said. "Lyla sent me the file. We can get in there and deal with Samantha, and then ARGUS can help with the rest of the Assassins."

Nyssa still seemed skeptical about their chances, but Felicity mapped out a route to the new stronghold anyway. Thea followed Felicity's directions and took the next exit.

***

The long, straight road through endless empty fields gave way to stoplights, and they decided to stop and rest before taking on the Assassins. The best opportunity, based on the daily pattern at Talia's hideout, was early evening. The hideout was an old hot spring retreat, down a dirt road in the National Forest, no longer maintained after a forest fire had taken out most of the cabins about fifteen years ago. There were a few buildings left, and only two guards at a time patrolled the surrounding area. Every evening, the perimeter guards would disappear for about five minutes and be replaced by another pair. Then, one of the other Assassins would lead Samantha from one building to another - maybe some kind of kitchen or dining facility. After half an hour, Samantha would be returned to her cabin, and wouldn't come out again until morning.

So they came up with a plan. They would drive down the dirt road until they found a good place to hide the car. Nyssa and Thea planned to approach the compound from two different directions, hide in the trees until the new guards came on duty, and shoot them. When Samantha's guard led her out of her cabin, they would shoot that guard, too. Felicity's job was to attract Samantha's attention, and one of the others would knock Samantha out with a tranquilizer arrow. And then Felicity and Thea would carry Samantha to the car, while Nyssa watched for the fourth and fifth Assassins.

Finally, they would drive away and keep Samantha from trying to kill anyone. Lyla and a handful of ARGUS agents would fly in as backup. Maybe the ARGUS team would even get there in time for the initial assault - though, as Lyla explained, she couldn't guarantee it. There was a lot of paperwork that had to be filed before her team could fly anywhere.

***

The initial approach went smoothly. There was a little side road a few hundred yards from the compound, hidden by an unburned stand of pine trees. The compound had some good cover in a few spots, just about at Thea's height. When the guards disappeared, Thea and Nyssa got into position, and Felicity hid as near to Samantha's cabin as possible.

And that's when things started to fall apart.

Samantha was the first person to emerge. Not the guards, who were supposed to be dead already. Not even Samantha's own guard. Samantha walked out of her cabin, alone, and stopped in the middle of the path.

Felicity ran out from her cover. "Samantha!" she called. "Over here!"

Samantha turned, looking confused, at the sound of Felicity's voice. Nothing about the situation said _I know who this is_ or even _thank goodness, I'm about to be rescued._

"Crap," Thea muttered, and shot the tranquilizer arrow. 

Samantha collapsed, and Thea ran to pick up Samantha's feet while Felicity lifted Samantha beneath her armpits. They were halfway to the trees when they heard the first thwick of Nyssa's arrows.

"I think we should run," Felicity suggested. And they tried, though Samantha was a dead weight between them, and the ground was uneven.

Nyssa kept firing arrows behind them, even after they reached the trees. The road to the car seemed longer than they remembered. Thea didn't have time to look back and see how many Assassins were still following them, until Nyssa shouted something in an unfamiliar language.

Thea looked back. Nyssa had an arrow stuck in her shoulder.

"Don't stop!" Nyssa ordered. "It is not far to the car!" But she stumbled, and Thea worried that Nyssa wouldn't make it.

"Wait," Thea said. "Felicity, I'm going to drop Samantha's feet, get the car, and then get all of you. Ok?"

She ran to the car, not waiting for an answer. They had parked it pointing out, thank goodness - Roy had trained her to do that early on - and Thea sped out, throwing dirt behind her.

Felicity helped haul Samantha's body into the back seat, shoved Nyssa in beside her, and dove in on top of both of them.

"I know I should sort out the seatbelts," Felicity said. "But I think you should just drive as fast as you can. Now."

Thea didn't actually need those instructions. She barreled down the dirt road as fast as she could manage without losing control. The road seemed miles longer than it had on the way up, but finally they reached pavement.

"Which way?" Thea asked. "Oh, and is anyone following us?"

"Not that I can see," Felicity replied. "But it's getting dark."

"If it's safe, I could really use you and your tablet riding shotgun," Thea said. "Nyssa, how are you doing?"

Nyssa didn't respond.

"Shit," Thea said. "She shouldn't be unconscious from an arrow. Felicity, there's some multi-poison antidote in Nyssa's pocket."  
  
"I've got it," Felicity said. "Fortunately, I have a lot of practice shoving herbs into people's mouths. And I also know how to pull out an arrow without doing more damage."

"Fortunately, you remember all of that," Thea replied.

"It's done," Felicity said, slamming the back door and jumping into the front seat. "Let's go."


	19. I, Felicity

It isn't long before we hear the thwap-thwap-thwap of a helicopter. ARGUS. Lyla and her back-up team are here. I text her a quick message with our coordinates, and a warning that although we escaped, we didn't kill a single Assassin.

I breathe for what feels like the first time in an hour. I may have messed up back there, but we have Samantha, and Nyssa seems to be sleeping rather than dying on us. And Lyla has arrived. Everything will be fine.

My phone buzzes. It's Lyla.

"Got your coordinates," she says. "Were those your lights on the highway?"

"Yes," I answer. "We're driving south. Nyssa's hurt. How far back are Talia's people?"

"We didn't see anyone following you," Lyla says.

"That's good," I say. "So what happened at Talia's new hideout?"

"Nothing," Lyla replies. "There wasn't anyone here."

"Nobody?" I frown, confused. "But they were chasing us. They shot a poisoned arrow at Nyssa." I wish that I had looked back, though it wasn't really possible while running and carrying Samantha. "Did you check the woods?"

"With night-vision," Lyla confirms. "Nobody was there. That's why I wondered if they were following you."

I look out the back window. "I don't see anyone."

"We'll fly over in the helicopter and look for them," Lyla said. "Where are you going?"

I wince. "We were going to play it by ear."

"I have a place," Lyla says. "Waller had been dead for a year when we acquired it. She wouldn't know about it." She gives me directions. It isn't that far away, for the definition of "far away" in the Rocky Mountains. It's better than something that's not as good, at least. We're in the middle of nowhere, Nyssa is injured, and we don't know what Samantha will do when she wakes up.

"Thanks," I say.

"We'll fly over it and check for intruders," Lyla says. "But after that, my team needs to go back."

"Trouble?" I ask.

"I need to keep a close eye on things, with Waller in custody," Lyla says. "Keeping a dead ARGUS director in prison is a little weird, even for us."

"Well, thanks for finding us a place," I say. "Let me know if the plans need to change."

"Will do," Lyla replies. "Take care of yourself."

"Bye." I tap the call to end it.

"I only caught your half of that," Thea says, "but did Lyla tell you that the Assassins have just disappeared?"

"Yeah," I say. "Which... doesn't surprise me that much. Should it surprise me?"

"You've met Malcolm," Thea says.

"Too many times," I agree. "You're right. This is typical League behavior. Which is super annoying. I mean, we don't even know if they meant to let us take Samantha."

"I don't think it matters that much," Thea says. "At least, not yet. We would need to deal with all of Samantha's issues, either way."

She has a point. I spend the rest of the drive wondering how Talia handled Samantha's weeks - months, maybe - of recovery from the Pit. I only experienced what is was like to be with Talia for a few days.

***

The town is small, and so is the house. We pull into the driveway and park, with assurances from Lyla that the night vision doesn't pick up anything except a coyote and an owl. Thea takes her bow into the house to check it for traps, just in case.

She comes back a few moments later and shrugs. Nothing that she could see, anyway. It's a small bungalow, just two bedrooms, on the ground floor with all the other rooms. The bedroom in the back has two beds in it - someone had been using it as a short-term vacation rental, Lyla told us, and they had maximized the number of college students who could sleep in the place on their spring break. ARGUS must have decided to leave the furniture in place.

We decide to put our two patients in the back, and take turns sleeping in the front bedroom. The other one will sit up, waiting to see whether Nyssa or Samantha awakens first.

I take the first shift sitting with our patients. After all, Thea has been driving, and needs some sleep. I pull out my laptop and connect to all of the ARGUS perimeter alarms, and then write some code to do image analysis on their infrared cameras. The cameras have been recording all this time, which is good. And it looks like the only unexpected visitors were a dog - or maybe a coyote - that buried something in the front yard, and a bear that wandered down the street.

The bedroom armchair is comfortable. Too comfortable. I sink into it and fall asleep.

***

I lay in the hospital bed, exhausted, trying not to remember how I let my bowels spew all over the doctor as I pushed and pushed. I could barely move when they laid the tiny body on my chest. But then he moved, reaching with hands and mouth. I adjusted, trying to hold him, until he reached my breast. He didn't latch on right away, like they say that babies are supposed to, and I adjusted him over and over until it seemed like he finally managed to suck something.

My alarm went off, and I moaned. The baby was asleep - finally, asleep, in the bed beside me, despite the hand-me-down crib on the other side of the room - and it was time for me to go to class. Maybe I could miss it this time. I could hardly stay awake to take notes, and my sister had made snarky comments about how she was going to run out of bottles soon, with all the time she was spending with him. But before I could make a decision, he reached for me, and his whimpers turned into full-fledged screams. I rolled out of bed, picked him up, and began walking around the room again. I never made it to class, but I didn't get any more sleep, either.

On the first day of kindergarten, he clung to me. I had to peel his arms off of me, apologizing to the teacher, and walk away as fast as possible. I could still imagine him crying when I got to work.

I missed his first Little League championship because I couldn't get time off. When I got home that night and looked into his room, he was sleeping in his uniform. As she was leaving, my sister told me that his hit had won the game. But in the morning, he was late for school and I was late for work, and I never heard the story.

One day, working at the hospital reception desk, we got a call from an ambulance. A school bus had crashed. They were transporting children to the ER. I tried to keep my hands from shaking as we prepared for the onslaught, not knowing which bus it was, keeping reporters away from the patients while wondering if my own child was safe. When I got home, he was eating ice cream, and didn't understand why I kept crying.

I had not expected to see Oliver again, ever, even after the reports that he had returned from the dead. But there he was, in my city, at my coffee house. My heart pounded, as if he would see the hidden check and the nine years of nightmares that it had given me. I picked up the hot chocolate and sped back to the playdate, and I never told William what had frightened me so much. 

When Oliver found out about William, I panicked. I was not a lawyer. I had no idea what rights a father has. But I knew the power of the Queen family name. If Oliver and his latest girlfriend wanted his child... I didn't know what I would do. Ten years, alone, wiping tears and setting unwanted rules and worrying, every day and every night, that something would happen and I would lose him. I would not - could not - lose him to Oliver Queen, or to this Felicity woman. Maybe my demands made no sense. But I had been a mother alone for a long time, and I was used to making decisions with no help, and sticking with them.

He had been kidnapped, twice. We had changed school, work, names. I had given up my dreams when he was born, and my friends and family when we went into hiding last year. And now, a madman who hated Oliver Queen - ANOTHER madman who hated Oliver Queen - was going to blow up an entire island, and my son with it. Over my dead body.

I ran into the flames. I died.

I didn't mean it. About my dead body, I mean.

I want to live.

I want to live.

***

"I want to live," a voice says from in front of me. I jerk awake and stare at the shadow that blocks the moonlight. She looms over me, holding something - a lamp?

Another shadow appears behind her. "You shall live," Nyssa says. "And so shall Felicity." She plunges a syringe into Samantha's arm, and Samantha crumples to the ground.

The lamp crashes on the floor when Samantha loses her grip on it.

Thea comes running into the room at the noise. "What...?" She stops and looks around. "They woke up," she says.

I stare around the room, shaking. Nyssa is bleeding again.

"You should get some more rest," Thea says to her. "And Felicity and I will put Samantha back to bed."

Thea stays in the room while I make some tea. And then it is my turn for the front room.

I do not know whether I want to sleep.


	20. Thea

"You're new."

Thea didn't recognize the voice.

No. Wait. Samantha Clayton. Thea blinked awake and reached for the knife that she had been keeping nearby, ever since they had started hunting for the Lazarus Pits.

"I am," Nyssa's voice replied.

Thea relaxed and listened.

"The others wore... some kind of veil." Samantha's voice was uncertain, at least as confused as Felicity's voice had been when they rescued her. "Except for the first one."

"My role is different. I am Nyssa," she said. "How are you feeling?"

"The others never ask me that," Samantha said. "They ask if I need to eat, or drink, or use the toilet. Except for the first one. She asks me questions about what I remember. She talks to me about who I am."

"I am different," Nyssa repeated. "Though if you need food or water or a toilet, I can certainly help."

"Toilet would be good," Samantha replied. The sheets rustled as she sat up. "You're bleeding."

"I am injured," Nyssa said. "It will heal."

"Injured people never visit me." She paused. "You've bled through your bandage... do you need help changing it? I... I think I knew how to do that. Once. Before."

"I will find the supplies." Nyssa glanced at Thea as she left the room, with a look that told Thea to stay still.

Thea touched her knife with the tip of her finger, but decided to wait and see what happened.

It wasn't long before Nyssa returned. "Here are the medical supplies."

The bed creaked. Thea peeked from her nearly-closed eyes to see Nyssa sitting, with Samantha beside her.

"I'll need to take off your shirt," Samantha said. "Is that all right?"

"You have my permission," Nyssa said.

The bed creaked again, and there was a soft flump of clothes hitting the floor. "This looks bad." Samantha sounded concerned. "What happened?"

"I was shot with an arrow," Nyssa replied. "There was poison. But I have taken an antidote."

Thea shuddered. Nyssa had been unconscious on the drive. She must have figured all this out from knowing the League, and their poisons... and from the fact that she wasn't currently dead.

The bed creaked again. Samantha must have pulled back. "I would need to know more about the poison to treat it..."

"It is fine," Nyssa reassured her. "I am familiar with its symptoms, and it is no longer a danger."

"All right." Samantha gave in. "The problem is... well, to start with, this is a nasty puncture wound, and there's always a danger of infection. Though it's been bleeding, so maybe there's less risk than with a closed wound. But you still might need antibiotics." She opened some kind of bottle. "This will have to do for now. It'll sting."

"I can endure that kind of pain," Nyssa said.

Silence. Thea snuck another look. Samantha was dabbing liquid off of Nyssa's chest, then pulling out some thick packages of gauze. 

"I'm going to pack this to limit the bleeding, and then wrap some other gauze around you to hold it in place." Samantha paused. "It will be easier if I pull down your bra strap."

"Do what you must," Nyssa said.

There was a ripping sound as Samantha opened a package, and more rustling as she wrapped the stretchy gauze around the wound. "There. That should hold it."

"Thank you," Nyssa said. "But you needed the toilet?"

"Yes." Samantha stopped. "This isn't my cabin."

"No," Nyssa agreed. 

"Who is that?" Samantha's voice was suddenly suspicious. 

Thea opened her eyes. "Hi," she said.

Samantha frowned. "I knew her..."

"Perhaps," Nyssa said, taking Samantha by the arm and leading her towards the bathroom door. "But now, she is your friend. I trusted you to bind my wound. You may trust me, as well." 

Samantha seemed to agree, and followed Nyssa out of the room.

*** 

Nyssa came back to the room briefly while Samantha was in the bathroom. "I think you should not be here when Samantha returns," she said. "Perhaps you could make some tea."

Thea nodded. "I'll do that." 

The kitchen was in the back corner of the bungalow, on the other side of one of the public rooms. What did they call rooms like this? Sitting rooms? The Queen mansion had had a sitting room, and a parlor, and a library. But there hadn't been any rooms in the Queen mansion with three futon couches, ready to be turned into beds.

The stove was an older model, burning gas or propane or something. Thea checked the fittings for leaks and bombs first, like Lyla had done at the other safehouse, and then found a kettle to fill with water. The tea was already sitting out. Right. Felicity had been here before she had taken her turn sleeping. So presumably they could be certain that the stove wouldn't explode.

It's not paranoid if someone is actually out to get you, Thea told herself, and searched the cupboard for mugs.

The tea was nearly done steeping when Nyssa came back. "Samantha is sleeping," she said. "I drugged her again. She expected it."

Thea handed Nyssa a mug. "What do the drugs do?" she asked. "After we rescued Felicity, you said they were given to the newly resurrected. How long do you think Samantha has been taking them?"

Nyssa shrugged. "I am not certain," she replied. "My sister was present on the island when Samantha died. Talia could have collected Samantha's body and immediately taken her to the Pit."

"If that happened, Samantha would have been drugged for over a year..." Thea shuddered.

"Or Talia could have kept the body and waited for the right moment to return her to life," Nyssa said.

"Samantha seems more confused than Waller or Isabel," Thea mused. "More like Felicity was, when we found her." She frowned at Nyssa. "Does that mean she was resurrected recently? Or just that she's been on Talia's drugs for a long time?"

"Perhaps we will have to ask, when she is better," Nyssa replied.

"She remembers some things," Thea said. "Like how to deal with puncture wounds. What was that all about?"

Felicity padded into the kitchen in her pajamas and fuzzy socks. "Samantha wanted to go to med school, before William was born." She walked over to the stove and peered at the kettle. "I heard you talking. Is there tea for me?"

"We can boil some more water," Thea said, getting up and re-filling the kettle. "How did you know about Samantha and med school?" 

"I've dreamed her memories," Felicity said. "She really loved William."

Thea took a sip of her tea and watched Felicity stare at the tea kettle. "Like you really loved Ollie?"

Felicity looked up.

"Because you tried to kill a man for making an omelet," Thea pointed out. "And another man for wearing a leather jacket. And a man with a scruffy beard. Because they reminded you of Ollie." Thea shrugged. "The Pit messed you up. Who knows what it did to Samantha."

"It may be worse," Nyssa said. "Samantha has been in my sister's hands for longer than Felicity was." She looked at Felicity. "Samantha said that Talia spoke to her about her memories. And about _who she was_."

The water boiled. Thea poured it into a mug and handed it to Felicity.

"Sara told me that I needed to figure out who _Felicity_ is," Felicity said. "Which will hopefully not be someone who talks about herself in third person for the rest of her life." She mixed some milk and spices into her tea, then took a sip and frowned. Nyssa silently handed her the jar of honey. "Samantha needs the same thing, I imagine. Except, instead of you two - and Lyla, and Sara - she only had Talia."

"And my sister wants Samantha to be a weapon," Nyssa finished.

"So what do we do with her?" Thea asked. "I mean, it was obvious that we needed to kill Isabel Rochev. She was a homicidal bitch without any help from Talia. And Lyla dealt with Amanda Waller."

"Samantha does not appear to be a threat at the moment," Nyssa said. "Despite what my sister may have done with her."

"We have to help her find out who she is, too," Felicity said. "Except that she doesn't know us."

"She recognized me," Thea pointed out. 

"She doesn't know us _very well_ ," Felicity corrected herself. She looked at Thea. "One of the first things that I remembered - after you rescued me and we were on the run, I mean - "

"Star Trek," Thea said. "And mint chip ice cream."

"I was going to say _you_ ," Felicity said. "I remembered that you were my friend. And that helped make it less scary, to have someone that I was sure I could trust."

"Samantha has no one," Nyssa pointed out.

"She hadn't had anyone for a long time." Felicity looked at something that Thea couldn't see. "It was just her and William. For ten years."

"So what do we do?" Thea said. "Because I don't think we should take her to William."

Both of the other women nodded in agreement.

"I will work with her," Nyssa finally offered. "She expects an Assassin. That, at least, I know how to be." She set her chin. "But I will not be the Assassin that my sister would wish for."


	21. I, a complete chicken. BAWK! BAWK! BAWK!

We send Nyssa back to bed in the room with Samantha. Nyssa still needs rest, after all, with the arrow wound and everything. And she has already proven that she's the best of us at reacting when Samantha wakes up.

That leaves Thea and I to sort out our gear, explore the town, and cook. Well, not actually cook. We make tea, and coffee, and we find every possible take-out place in the town. There's pizza, and a Chinese place, and a coffee shop. Plus fast food. And a Thai place in the next town, but everything on its menu has peanuts. So maybe not a good idea.

I hope Samantha is ok with pizza. I mean, William loves pizza, and was always ok with me getting take-out. But maybe Samantha has been having cravings for something other than cheese and pepperoni. For, like, a decade. My dreams haven't included Samantha's food preferences. So although I know exactly how it felt when she gave birth, I have no idea what she likes to eat.

Have I mentioned that the whole food thing stresses me out? It's like - I know she's going to discover that I took care of her son for six months, and I helped Oliver before that. I just don't want her to judge my parenting. Or maybe I want to live up to her standards. William managed to come out of two kidnappings and a year in hiding without being messed up, and that was Samantha's doing. Plus I have a lot of respect for single moms in general. Or I've finally learned to respect them, after I grew up and realized all of the things that my own mom gave up for me.

This is weird, thinking about William so much. Because on the one hand, I remember helping him with his math homework and his science fair projects, and just liking him as a kid and as a human being. And on the other, I can't think too much about the past year, because inevitably I'll think of Oliver. And then I'm back to the fury and the guilt and the love and the frustration and the fear and the urge to LIVE, I WANT TO LIVE, I need to kill him so I can LIVE...

The blood lust. The blood lust isn't gone.

I can ignore it when I've got something to do. If I'm hacking? Solving a tough surveillance problem? Helping Thea navigate on a long drive across the country? Then I'm fine.

But staying out of Nyssa's way while she carefully tries to help Samantha find the fragments of herself, while avoiding talking about the one person who was the focus of Samantha's life for more than a decade? That's hard. It gives me too much time to think and remember.

I know that I need to remember - remember all of it - if I am to find myself, too.

But I'm afraid.

***

Thea walks into the room. I look up from my tablet, where I have been playing online blackjack for at least an hour. It's kind of boring, compared to dressing up and fooling a dealer into thinking that I'm an empty-headed ditz and then walking away with a boatload of cash. But it keeps my mind half-occupied, and it reminds me of my childhood. When I ate nachos, and counted cards, and did not have the urge to kill anyone, except maybe for that boy in second grade who told me that girls couldn't do math. But that wasn't really blood lust, and I don't think it counts.

Thea frowns. "Wait a minute," she says. "Didn't you say that you smashed your tablet, back at the Pit where we found you?"

"I did," I reply. "Lyla bought me a new one. You haven't noticed until now?"

"I was distracted," Thea confesses. She looks over my shoulder. "Cards?"

I shrug. "I've automated everything else. I've got the workstations set up to run facial recognition and hunt for Talia on every traffic camera in the country. Plus I'm double-checking every image that ARGUS has collected. Not just the keyhole satellite imagery. Everything. With no luck." I sigh. "There's basically nothing to do but wait. And play online card games."

"Are you still having dreams?" Thea asks.

"Some," I admit. "But I don't think I'm learning anything new. I hacked a bunch of archives to try to find stories about the 19th century people, but I can't find much of anything." I scowl at the screen. "Sitting around is so..."

"I know," Thea says. "We were searching and hiding and fighting so much when we were looking for the Pits. And then we were on the run from Talia's people. But now we're just waiting for Samantha to get better." She slumps into a chair beside me. "And I miss Roy. I have to be so cagey every time we talk, because Lyla doesn't think we should let Ollie know that Samantha is alive."

I tap another card, then do a quick calculation in my head and decide to stand pat.

"Want to teach me to count cards?" Thea asked.

I shrug and explain probability theory to her. She's better at it than she realizes. It's so hard for me to remember that she barely graduated from high school; she is smarter than she knows. Like...

Thea taps my hand. "You're clenching that pen like it's a knife," she points out.

"Sorry," I say.

"Maybe we should do something physical," she suggests.

"Yoga?" I ask. We've already practiced for an hour today.

"Maybe something more active," she says. "But still working on self-control."

So we go into the back yard, and Thea teaches me to fight with those wooden sticks that the team used to use. She is good - good enough that when my mind wanders (stick-fighting -> Oliver training -> attacking because I WANT TO LIVE), Thea slides away from my flailing attack. And the next thing I know, I'm lying on the ground, weaponless, with Thea's stick at my throat.

"Stay in control the entire fight, and we can go get some mint-chip ice cream." She grins at me, suddenly young and impish.

It takes me more than an hour to get through an entire routine without losing it. But finally I manage to keep my focus until I disarm Thea.

When I lower my sticks, she gives me a knowing look.

"That did help," I tell her. "Thank you."

***

We practice with sticks every day. We do yoga. We walk downtown to pick up the takeout pizza. We drive to the store for ice cream and tea and coffee.

Finally, Nyssa thinks that Samantha is ready for some new experiences. None of us know how deep Talia's programming has gone, but we've been gradually cutting back on the League sedative, and Samantha has been telling Nyssa about studying for medical school. It's a start.

We make a plan. We'll introduce ourselves in the morning, one at a time. Thea first - after all, Samantha has seen her already, and they kind of bonded when we were all in cages on the island. Plus Thea will bring chocolate doughnuts - Samantha mentioned eating them while studying, so we figure that we'll try to use food to help her remember who she was.

And then it will be my turn. Which could be awkward. After all, before she died, Samantha told me that my relationship with - no I am not going to grab the knife, I can control myself - my relationship with HIM, with Oliver, wasn't complicated. (Ha. Yeah. Right.) And after she died, I helped take care of the son that she loved. The son that Nyssa has avoided discussing with her, for fear that Samantha was reanimated in order to kill him.

I tear off one of my fingernails while I wait. It bleeds.

I also make tea. Because it will give me something to carry into the room. And drinking it will calm me down.

Finally, the bedroom door opens, and Nyssa waves me in. I enter cautiously and give a (hopefully friendly) wave. I do not spill the two mugs of tea that I am carrying in my other hand.

Samantha frowns at me. That can't be good.

"This is Felicity," Nyssa says.

"I knew somebody with that name..." Samantha stops and shakes her head. "But she was blonde. And wore glasses."

"I used to be blonde, but I decided to go for a two-toned look," I try to joke. In reality, I have been avoiding deciding what to do about my hair. I know the roots have grown all the way to my ears, and they look horrible. But for now... I'm not sure who I am, and my hair color reflects that.

I cover the awkward moment by offering Samantha a tea cup. "Nyssa's been teaching me to make this. The spices are great, and so is the honey, and the milk is nice, unless you're lactose-intolerant, which I know that you aren't because Nyssa says you've been eating plenty of pizza..." I am babbling. I close my mouth and wait for a response.

Samantha reaches out and takes the mug from my hand. Nyssa gives her an encouraging nod, and Samantha raises it to her lips to take a sip.

I hope that I put the right amount of honey in it.

Samantha smiles. "That's nice," she says. "Thank you."

I smile back. It will be all right. It _will_ be all right.

***

The best part about all three of us interacting with Samantha? It means that Nyssa can help cook. That leads to a surprising setback - Talia's people had been making League of Assassins food, and Nyssa's cooking reminds her of it. On the other hand, the takeout - especially the pizza - had been reminding Samantha of her life before the Pit.

(I am secretly relieved that Samantha relied on takeout, too. I've got her memories, yes. But I was still worried that she was some kind vegetable-cooking superstar.)

Nyssa uses her cooking as an opportunity to talk about her own childhood. She pushes Thea and I to join in, and suddenly I am talking about nachos and casinos and Thea is talking about her pets. Samantha mostly listens quietly, but sometimes she'll suddenly remember something and describe it in incredible detail.

I wonder whether I was like this, at first.

***

We start going for walks around the block, talking about whatever we can think of. The weather. The peeling paint on the house on the other side of the street. The sound of a loose muffler on a car. The best flavors of ice cream.

One day, after reminiscing about our favorite childhood playground equipment, we decide to walk a little further. If we go a couple more blocks, we can get to a park with a set of swings, a slide, and some things for kids to climb on. Thea didn't spend much time at public parks when she was little, and I want to see if I can swing higher than she can.

The park is empty when we arrive. There are four swings, so each of us gets one. Thea and I start out pumping hard, pushing to see who can get highest. The swing set starts to shake, and I stop pumping to explain the concept of 'resonance' to Thea, complete with a story about how I won extra credit points in one of my freshman classes when I was the first one to make a wine glass break. There is a _whoop_ beside us, and we look over to see that Nyssa has swung higher than I had ever imagined possible. Thea starts clapping, and I look to see how Samantha has reacted...

She isn't on her swing.

We look around - back towards the street, around the climbing equipment, on the other side of the slide...

There she is. 

A boy is walking across the park, staring at his phone. He's an older pre-teen, dark-haired, shoulders a little slumped, like he's not really comfortable with his height, and is used to being a couple inches shorter.

Samantha is walking towards him. Fast. Something is in her hand...

I break into a run before I even know what I'm doing, grab her wrist, and twist it. Thea's knife pops out.

Thea and Nyssa see what I'm doing and run after me, cornering Samantha beside the slide, cutting her off from any contact with the boy.

He keeps walking across the park, and then across the next street, and then he's hidden by houses. I don't think he ever notices us.

Nyssa produces a syringe from her pocket and sticks it into Samantha's arm.

Thea has to run back to the house and get our car. We prop Samantha up against the end of the slide, and hope that no more kids come into the park while we're waiting.

***

Back at the house, we argue about who should be there when Samantha wakes up. Nyssa is the obvious choice, but I feel like it's my job. I have her memories. And I know what this kind of blood lust feels like, the need to kill someone that you... well, I don't want to think about how I feel.

I just know that Samantha wouldn't want to actually kill William. And that she wouldn't want to hurt any kid. And sometimes we need to face these things.

"Yes, I am certain that I'm still talking about Samantha," I tell Thea.

Thea just gives Nyssa a significant look. But they let me go into the room without them.

*** 

Samantha's eyes blink open. She looks around, suddenly frantic.

"Hi." I wave to her to get her attention. "It's just me. Do you want a doughnut? I've found that sometimes it helps to eat something." 

Samantha frowns, confused.

"Though I always used to stress eat. Before I died. So maybe that's just me, and not something that happens to everyone who comes out of the Pit." I press my lips together. I hadn't planned to start there.

"The... Pit?"

"Right," I say. "We've just been trying to help you remember yourself, and we didn't explain what happened. Or what probably happened. None of us were there. Or, well, we were there for part of it. Just not the important part." I stop and hold up the bag. "Doughnut?"

Samantha reaches out and takes one.

"You died in a fire trying to save your son. And Talia al Ghul put you into a magic hot tub called the Lazarus Pit - or _a_ Lazarus Pit, I guess - because there were several of them - and brought you back to life. And then she kept you with her for who-knows-how-long. And then we rescued you." That was not a very clear explanation. Even for me.

"If she brought me back to life, why did you need to rescue me?" Samantha asks.

"Because, as far as we could tell, Talia has been bringing people back to life to use as weapons," I tell her.

"Weapons?" Samantha frowns. "There was a knife. You took it from me."

I give shrug that is half guilty-as-charged, and half proud. I mean, I had never disarmed anyone before, not for real. But that wasn't the point. "The knife wasn't the weapon," I tell her. "You, wanting to use a knife? That was the weapon."

"There was a boy..." Samantha says, then stops.

"They call it _blood lust_ ," I try to explain. "The people who made the Pits do, I mean. They're a bit over-dramatic. But whether or not its name makes sense, blood lust is a real thing. When you come out of the Pit, you want to kill the person who was responsible for your death."

Samantha frowns again. "There was a fire. I ran into the woods, and there was a fire."

I nod.

"I wanted to save the boy." She shakes her head to clear it.

"William," I say. "Your son. William. You were frantic. You would have done anything to save him."

Samantha nods slowly. "William," she says. "Yes."

"You gave up a lot for him," I tell her. "You loved him." 

"I... died," Samantha says. "But... I want to live." She looks at me, her eyes wild. "I want to live." She sits up, reaching for the lamp, but she is unsteady and knocks it over, instead. 

The door flies open and Nyssa comes through.

"You are alive, Samantha," Nyssa says. "You shall live. You need not kill anyone."

Samantha looks into Nyssa's eyes. 

"Breathe," Nyssa commands. "Breathe with me, like you did before."

Samantha takes one slow breath, then another.

"That is better," Nyssa says. 

Samantha breathes a few more times, then looks at the doughnut in her hand. "William liked doughnuts," she says.

I nod. "But he prefers ones with sprinkles on them."

Samantha frowns, and I wonder whether she will ask how I know. But she is focused on other details. "The other one, the first woman, Talia... she asked about William. But not about doughnuts."

"Talia probably didn't want you to remember anything pleasant about him," I speculate.

Nyssa nods in agreement. "She wished to shape your memories, I believe." 

" _You_ didn't talk about William," Samantha points out. "The other one - Talia - wanted a weapon." She looks from Nyssa to me to Thea, who has just joined us and is standing behind Nyssa. "What do _you_ want from me?"

We glance at each other. "We don't want you to kill anyone," Thea says.

"We don't want you to kill someone you love," I add.

Nyssa looks at both of us, then at Samantha. "We wish for you to heal," Nyssa says. "To truly live, as yourself. Not as anyone's tool."


	22. I, fellow hot-tub zombie

Nyssa convinces Samantha to rest a bit more, and offers to stay with her. Thea and I go back to the kitchen and drink more tea.

"I screwed that up." I stare into my tea.

Thea shrugs. "Maybe. Or maybe you ripped the band-aid off." She sips her tea. "I mean, Talia had obviously been keeping her sedated. A lot. And trying to shape the woman who came out of the Pit. Maybe somebody needed to be honest with her."

"She still doesn't know most of it," I fret. "She remembers us, a little. But we were there when she died."

"We should tell her," Thea says. "We should tell her all of it."

***

I am now on doughnut-delivery duty.

I open the door, expecting Samantha to be sleeping, but both she and Nyssa are awake, looking at me.

"I'll just leave this here," I say.

"Wait," Samantha says. "Nyssa tells me that you came out of the... the Pit?" She looks at Nyssa for confirmation. "That you came out of the Pit, too." She pauses. "Could you... tell me about it?" She frowns. "I don't remember. Or... I'm not sure what I remember."

"She only remembers Talia and her minions," Nyssa says. She doesn't say _my sister_ , like she usually does with Thea and me. I wonder about that, but figure that Nyssa is probably still working on gaining Samantha's trust. Especially after I spilled all the beans about William.

I open the bag, pull out a doughnut, and start eating it. When I've finally swallowed it, I start. "It was wet," I say. "I mean, obviously. Because the Pit is filled with water. There was water everywhere, but then suddenly I came out of it and I could breathe."

Samantha looked at Nyssa and took several long, slow breaths. Finally, she looks back at me. "Tell me more. Please." She closes her eyes for a moment, then looks again. "It wasn't just water. Was it? I remember... snow. And a gun. And blood. And fire." 

I nod slowly. "You remember other people's deaths," I tell her. "Every person who has been in the Pit leaves something of themselves in it. Their memories, their feelings..."

"Nyssa says you were the last one in the Pit," Samantha says. "So I wouldn't have any of your memories. But you would have mine."

I look at Nyssa, suddenly terrified by what Samantha seems to be asking.

"Please," Samantha says. "Help me figure out which ones are me."

***

Every day, I spend some time talking with Samantha. At first, we compare notes on the other memories - the bank robber, the woman who died in the snow, the man who was killed by dynamite. Then we piece together the stories about Amanda Waller, who was both amazing and terrifying, even from inside her own head. And then we face Isabel Rochev.

"I knew that she wasn't me," Samantha confesses. "She wanted to kill Nyssa. But I remembered Nyssa as someone who rescued me."

That's right. Nyssa had been there on the island, when we escaped from the cages.

And then we talk about Samantha's own memories. I admit to having been on the island, too, but she doesn't blame me - or Thea - for her death. She values our ability to corroborate her memories.

Eventually, we'll have to talk about the reason why we were all there, together. But not yet.

Because Samantha's strongest memories are bound up with motherhood, and that's what she wants to talk about. She remembers her own childhood, but mostly in contrast to the stronger memories of William. His first day of school. His favorite foods. The bully that he dealt with throughout third grade.

She's tentative about it. "There was this time when he was a toddler." She looks into the distance, as if she can see him there. "He was home, with me, for a month. I had to change his diapers all the time. He was miserable." She looks at me for confirmation.

I nod. I can hear him crying, trying to talk at the same time, but not able to express himself. "He had some kind of sickness that kept him from daycare. You were worried about... washing cantaloupe?"

Samantha nods, and her medical knowledge fills the gaps. "E. coli," she says. "Diarrhea. It's spread through feces, and antibiotics don't help."

"It was awful," I say.

"Especially for him," Samantha agrees. "Though it was so hard to hear him cry, and not be able to help." She glances at me. "I wondered if Talia made that one up. She wanted me to remember how frustrating it was."

"It was real," I say. "And it was really frustrating."

"But not enough to make me want to kill him," Samantha says. "I just wanted to make him feel better."

***

One day, when we are talking about death, she looks up at me, frowning. "How did you die?" she asks. "I don't have your memories."

I take a breath. "I had a baby, too," I tell her. "The baby died. And then I died, as well. In the hospital."

Samantha sucks in her breath. "Oh. Oh my God. I'm so sorry."

I breathe a few times. "I'm ok," I say. "I'm ok."

"Do you..." She pauses. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I'm surprised to find that I do. I tell her about my water breaking early, and about my failure at pushing, the failure that led to the c-section. About the sudden flurry of activity when the baby stopped breathing, and my panic and the pain in my back and my vision going all spotted, not just blurry like it usually is, and then nothing.

"I'm so sorry," Samantha says again, and pulls me into a long hug.

I'm sobbing. For the baby that we never even named. For the hopes and dreams of happiness that disappeared in that hospital room.

And maybe, a little, I'm even crying for me.

***

Several more days go by before Samantha asks the next big question. We've been working through her feelings about William, her dreams of becoming a doctor, and how she felt about giving up her dreams to care for her child. Nyssa has been spending a lot of time with her, too. Between all of the talking, Samantha has concluded that, yes, she still wishes she could have gone to medical school. But she doesn't want William to be dead.

Perhaps that is why Talia was still using the sedative on Samantha. Her blood lust wasn't working like Talia had expected it to. Talia had been working on the resentment - and it was there, strong enough that the boy in the playground had triggered it - but we were able to shuffle the love back to the foreground in much less time.

All of us are feeling hopeful. So it's not that surprising when she finally asks the next difficult question.

"Who do you want to kill, Felicity?" Samantha dips her doughnut into her tea, as if this is the simplest question in the world. "You don't seem to resent doctors, even though they should have been monitoring you as well as the baby. And the baby..." She pauses, still sensitive to the hurt. She would have been a great doctor.

I stare at my fingernails, trying not to think about the question. Just answer it.

I take a breath. "My husband," I say. "Oliver Queen." I look up, watching for her reaction. "William's father."

Samantha sucks in a breath. "Oliver." She frowns. "I remember Oliver... I recruited him. No, I took his company from him."

I shake my head. "That was Amanda Waller. And Isabel Rochev. Though Isabel slept with Oliver, too. It makes the memories confusing." I shake my head. Isabel is not the point.

Samantha frowns, sorting through the memories. "I called him. After the pregnancy test. He freaked out. But then I saw him again, years later, and he suddenly wanted to be a father. And then I was the one who freaked out." She looks up at me. "You. That's how I know you."

I give her a weak wave. "Hi," I say. "We met when William was kidnapped and my fiancé asked me to help rescue the son he had avoided telling me about." The blood begins to rush in my ears. I ignore it.

Samantha doesn't notice my reaction. "I was sure he was going to take my son away," she says. She frowns. " _He_ didn't. But... William was kidnapped." She looks up. "Twice. He was kidnapped twice, by people who knew Oliver. That's why you and Thea and William and I were on the island. With the fire. Where I died." She stands. "I want to live."

I am barely listening. I had been shot, and was afraid I would die. He lied to me. I trusted him, and he lied to me. I walked away, but I couldn't stay away, and I married him. I had his baby. And I died.

"I want to live," I reply. I am also standing. "I want to live."

The door flies open, and moments later, Thea has disarmed me. I look over at Samantha, and see that Nyssa has taken a knife from her, as well. I have no idea where the knives came from.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," Thea says, as Nyssa plunges a syringe into my arm.


	23. I, with lots of help: solver of mysteries and planner of plans

I awaken on a recliner in the living room. Nyssa has been reducing the amount of drug in the syringes, so neither Samantha nor I are out for very long any more.

Thea is sitting on the coffee table, watching.

I blink, shake my head to clear it, and sit up. "What is it?" I ask her.

"I just noticed something," Thea says. "When you and Samantha went into blood-lust-mode at the same time... you both said exactly the same thing. _'I want to live.'_ " 

I frown at her. "Well, I mean, we do. Want to live. We were both dead, after all."

"Yes," Thea says. "I remember being dead. And being confused coming out of the Pit. And wanting to kill." She tilts her head and look at me. "But I don't remember phrasing it exactly like that. I thought it was just you, at first. You've talked about wanting to live before, you know. It's one of your things. But then I heard you and Samantha both say it. And I remembered that Isabel..."

"Isabel said something similar," I finish. I frown at Thea. "What are you saying?"

"What if that isn't you speaking," Thea suggests. "Or Samantha. Or Isabel. Or a normal thing that happens in the Pit."

  
"What if it was someone else's thought," I agree. "Someone else who has been in the Pit."

Thea gets up, crosses the room, and knocks on the bedroom door. Nyssa opens it.

"How old is Talia?" Thea asks her. "And when did she leave Nanda Parbat?"

Nyssa thinks. "I was very young when she left," she says. 

"And she was an adult already?" Thea asks.

Nyssa nods.

"So she hasn't really aged," Thea confirms.

"Talia has been using a Pit," I realize. "But not the one at Nanda Parbat."

"Why did Talia go off on her own?" Thea asks Nyssa.

"She realized that she would never be allowed to inherit my father's position," Nyssa says.

"Which included access to the Pit," Thea finishes.

"The Pit doesn't just bring back the dead," I nod. "It keeps people young."

"Your father used it for more than a hundred years," Thea says to Nyssa. "And Talia wanted to use it, too. But he wouldn't allow anyone else access to it."

"Talia wanted to live," I agree. "She still wants to live." 

***

We think we know what Talia wants, now. It doesn't explain why she's after Oliver - I mean, she lived for years, doing her secret Assassin thing while Oliver did his vigilante thing, before she started resurrecting people who might want to kill him and his allies.

But knowing that Talia wants to  _live_ doesn't help us deal with her. So I keep doing the electronic surveillance, and training my self-control with Thea. Samantha's situation is more difficult. We put her back on the League sedative, even though we don't really want to. Nyssa spends a lot of time with her - she's the least likely to trigger Samantha's rage at Oliver, after all. Nyssa decides to talk to Samantha about other things - about studying for medical school, and about her favorite books. They gradually cut back on the League sedative as Samantha gets a better handle about who  _Samantha Clayton_  is, besides William's devoted and very angry mother. Which is mostly good, though sometimes Samantha wakes up screaming, and Thea and I run to the bedroom door in case Nyssa needs help.

One day, Nyssa doesn't open the door when we knock on it, so Thea kicks it open.

We don't see Nyssa, though there is a lump under the sheets of one of the beds. We start into the room, weapons hidden but ready.

And then Nyssa emerges from under the covers, looking rather rumpled.

We glance at Samantha's closed eyes and smiling lips, and sneak back out again.

Thea makes tea. "Did you have any idea that Samantha was gay?" she asks. "Or bi, or pansexual, or whatever? I mean, she and Oliver..."

I avoid reaching for the knife drawer, and shuffle through the memories instead. "It's hard to tell which memory goes with which person," I tell her. "I know at least some of the people who came out of the Pit were attracted to women." I give Thea a sheepish look. "I tried to kiss Nyssa after dreaming about one of them. Maybe I was acting out Samantha's desires."

"But..." Thea shrugs. "I just hope this isn't some kind of messed-up rebound relationship for Nyssa."

I nod. But I have memories - memories that aren't mine - of lonely dreams, and of desires that had been pushed aside for years. And I think that maybe this will help both of them find themselves.

*** 

Samantha and Nyssa start joining us for yoga. There's a lot more laughter. Even from Nyssa, who turns out to be a giddy flirt when she isn't being a proud badass. I suspect that she is only pretending to be bad at the tree pose, so that she can 'accidentally' knock Samantha to the ground.

Both Samantha and I get gradually better at controlling our blood lust. We practice talking about Oliver until we can have a conversation about him without reaching for the nearest knife.

We still want to live. But in a healthy way. Maybe.

And as we practice our self-control, we begin to make plans.

Talia's desire to live is somehow tied up with her need for revenge against Oliver. She brought people back from the Pit who could help - Amanda Waller to attack the Diggles, Isabel Rochev to go after Nyssa and Thea, Samantha to hurt William. And me, to kill Oliver. And we - even Samantha, even me - we all want to stop her. 

So we concoct a plan. First, we will make sure that William is safe, and somewhere unexpected. We tell Lyla, and ARGUS sneaks him and Samantha's sister's family away in the middle of the night. Lyla gets John and Roy to help protect them, though she doesn't tell them the whole story. (I think she tells them that she and JJ need additional protection from Amanda Waller, but Lyla doesn't tell me the details.)

That leaves Oliver alone in Star City. Thea calls him. 

"Ollie!" She tries to sound frantic. I hope that Oliver is convinced by it. "Ollie, something's happened to William. We think we know where he is..."

She gives the address of a house on the outskirts of Central City. We are already near there, after driving over two passes in the snow. Lyla assures us that the house is empty, and so is the place next door. (ARGUS owns way too many suburban houses, I think.)

I cover the digital tracks of William, John, and Roy. But I make sure that anyone with the right skill set will know where Samantha and I are. And where Oliver is headed.

Samantha and I go into one house. Nyssa and Thea go into the other.

And we wait.


	24. I... bait? weapon?

"I got Thea's message and came as soon as I could," Oliver says. "Where's William?" He picks up the new bow that Thea bought for him - a bow that he didn't even ask about - in one hand. An arrow is ready in the other. His quiver is strapped over his t-shirt. My chest tightens as I watch him move, and then I hear the blood rushing in my ears.

_I want to live._

I re-focus and glance at the living room door. On cue, Samantha steps into the room.

Oliver lowers his bow halfway. "Samantha," he says. He looks at me, uncertain, then back at her. "Samantha. Where is my son?"

"Oliver." Samantha stops. Breathes in and out. "I was right to worry that you would take William away."

"Samantha's alive." I feel the need to point that out, given that it should have been the first thing that Oliver noticed.

"I see that," he says, frowning. "Where is William?"

"Not with us," I tell him. "And shouldn't you be, you know, happy that William's mother is alive? He would be."

"Of course I'm happy." Oliver doesn't look particularly happy, but he sets his bow on the coffee table and takes three steps away from it. "I'm just worried, too." He looks from me to Samantha and back again. "Thea said William was in danger. What do I need to do?"

"You should probably take a seat," I suggest.

Oliver shrugs and lowers himself into one of the armchairs. I nod and sit in a second chair, closer to his bow than he is. Samantha remains standing.

"William has been in danger ever since you met him," she says. "You're the greatest danger to him. You always were."

"I would do anything to protect him," Oliver argues.

"Kidnapped," Samantha says. "William was kidnapped. Twice."

"She means by Malcolm and by Adrian Chase," I add.

Oliver raises an eyebrow. "I know that."

"Threatened with death," Samantha continues, moving restlessly across the room.

"Damien Darhk, and Adrian Chase. Again." I finish.

"Moved across the country. Gave up his school, his friends, his name," Samantha says, turning back to look at Oliver. "His mother was killed. _I... I_ was killed."

"I took care of him after that," Oliver says, trying to defend himself.

"Well, technically, that was mostly Raisa and me," I correct him.

"Taken away from his convict father and his pregnant stepmother. Moved across the country. Again." Samantha is even more relentless than I had expected.

"That was your family's decision," Oliver says.

"That doesn't help," Samantha says, walking towards him. "You don't know my family. You had no idea what your mother sent me off to, back when you didn't want to be a father. And you sent my son back to that." She takes another step forward, until she is between him and the coffee table. "I want my son to live. _I_ want to live."

Oliver has no idea that he's being threatened until she is standing over him, holding a gun.

I glance around the room. This was planned. Mostly. But Samantha is on the edge. And we haven't seen Talia yet. I had been so sure that she would show up for a last, triumphant villain rant. The villains always show up.

I need to slow down the pace a bit, so I stand and point Samantha's gun away from Oliver.

Oliver gives me a look that is grateful and far too familiar. I feel myself getting sucked into it. Again. This is how I ended up engaged. This is how I ended up married. This is how I ended up dead.

_I want to live._

"Don't move," I tell him.

"Felicity?" He starts to look worried. He should be worried. I have Samantha's gun now, and it's pointed at him. "What are you doing?"

"Samantha wants to live," I tell him. " _I_ want to live."

"I want you to live, too," Oliver says, encouraged despite the gun pointed at him. "I want to you to live, with me, again."

"Oliver," I say. I stop, then shake my head. "Oliver, I can't go back with you."

"We'll figure out some way to explain you being alive," he insists. "It will be fine."

"No," I reply. "No. It won't." I shake my head again. "Oliver. No."

"Felicity," he says. "Felicity. Please."

"NO, Oliver." I take a step back.

He frowns at me. "But... I can't do it without you. I'm on parole. I want to be a better person this time. You made me a better person." He looks desperate. "But... I can't be that person without you."

"Oliver." I take another step back, until I almost run into the coffee table. "Can you list all the things that I've done to make you a better person?"

"Everything," he says. "Everything. Every moment that you've been with me, from the moment I met you. Everything you do makes me a better person."

"That's not what I meant," I say. "Do you know all the choices I made, so you could be a better person?"

He just looks at me.

"When I first started working with you, and found out what you did. Do you remember what happened?" I ask.

He nods encouragingly.

"I went back to help you, after locking you out of the lair, even though you went after that single dad," I remind him. "I came back, because I thought you could make a difference, if you did things just a little bit differently."

"He orphaned a child?" Samantha moves towards him again.

"I didn't," Oliver says. "Felicity told me not to. Like I said, she makes me better." 

"I came back," I repeat. "You asked, and I came back."

"And you stayed," he says. 

"I stayed," I agree. "And I even flew in that tiny plane to Lian Yu."

"I think I started to love you then," he says.

"And you showed me that you loved me... by making me be your secretary," I point out. "You told me that you needed me. And I wanted to make a difference, to help you save the city. So I gave up my job in IT. And I made you coffee."

"Only once," he says. "Only once at Queen Consolidated, at least."

"I stayed when Isabel Rochev accused me of wearing short skirts to seduce you," I continue. "I stayed when you didn't think you could be with someone you cared about, after Russia. And after our date exploded, in the hospital, when you kissed me. I told you not to talk, and then you kissed me and wouldn't let me go, even though you wouldn't let me be with you. I stayed when you wanted to die. I didn't want to be a woman that you loved, but I still stayed."

"I love that you stayed," Oliver says. "If you hadn't stayed..."

"If I hadn't stayed, you would have killed even more people," I finish. "You would have let yourself die. Or you would have become Ra's al Ghul."

"But I didn't," Oliver says. "I chose to live. Because of you. I chose to live with you. And you chose to live with me."

"I lost myself in you," I tell him.

"We found ourselves in each other," he corrects me.

"You lied to me," I remind him. "I told you that marriage is about getting through the hard things, together. But you wouldn't tell me about the hard things. You didn't trust that we could get through them. You had to do everything alone, like when you were on the island, so you lied to me about William."

"I didn't lie," Oliver waffles. "I just... left some things out."

"While you were traveling to Central City," I remind him. "While I was paralyzed, and you were traveling to Central City."

Samantha steps forward and re-joins the conversation. "You put William in danger," she says.

"I know," Oliver tells her. "That's why I sent him away afterwards. That's why I had to send him away."

"You sent both of us away," Samantha reminds him. "And you didn't keep us safe." 

"I could have kept them safer if I had known where they were," I tell him. "I could have given them new identities. But you didn't trust me."

"I do trust you," he says. "I told you that. I trusted you. I have always trusted you. But I didn't trust myself."

"I remember," I say. "I remember you telling me that. And it broke my heart. You almost died that day. I didn't want you to die. I wanted to see who you became, when you finally figured out who you were... but then I realized that it was _my_ job to make you into the person you could be. You would never trust yourself, you would never figure it out on your own, and so I needed to be there, with you, to believe in you." I stop and take a breath. "And then after that, after the island blew up, you needed my help with William."

"We both needed you," Oliver says. "I am so glad that you married me."

"I didn't want to," I remind him. "I said no."

"And then you said yes," he says.

"Because I saw what would have happened to you otherwise," I say. "I saw the other version of you. The one from the other Earth. The one who married a villain, and became a villain. I always knew you could be a hero, Oliver. But when I saw the evil version of you, I knew that it was _my_ job to make you into one."

"And you did," Oliver says. "You married me. And everything was perfect. You, me, the city, the baby that was coming..."

"The baby died, Oliver," I remind him. "I went to the hospital and I had a c-section and it didn't work. The baby died. And then _I_ died." I raise the gun. "I want to live, Oliver. I want to live."

And that's the moment when Talia finally appears.

"Talia," Oliver says, finally rising out of his chair. "You did this. You threatened William. You made my wife want to kill me."

"And brought Amanda Waller back to life so she could kill your best friend's wife," I add. "And you don't even know about Isabel Rochev trying to kill Nyssa and Thea."

"Thea?" Oliver looks at me again. "Isabel's back, too? And she tried to kill Thea? Is Thea ok?"

"We killed Isabel first," I tell him. "But yes. Talia wants to kill the people you love... and then - well, I don't know for sure, but I assume that she wants you dead, too."

"Just kill me," Oliver says to Talia. "I'm the one who killed your father. Not Thea. Not William. Not Felicity. Kill me now, and get it over with."

"You still do not understand." Talia pulls out a sword, then kicks the coffee table, sending Oliver's bow flying across the room. "You truly believe that this is all about you." 

Well, of course he does, I think. It _is_ all about him. It's _always_ about him.

"You want revenge," Oliver says.

"No, Oliver," Talia says. "You were too good of a student to truly believe that. Revenge is petty. Small."

"Then what do you want?" Oliver asks. "Why are you doing this?"

"My father lived for a very long time," Talia says. "I heard stories of him when I was a child, before I ever met him. And one day, I snuck into his bath."

"While he was there?" I blurt out. Because, seriously. Gross. A naked Ra's al Ghul does not sound appealing. And in front of his daughter...

"Of course not," Talia says. "I went in while the guards were gone. But they found me playing there. That was when they first brought me before my father. But I only had to touch the waters once to know... I wanted to live."

 _I want to live_ , I think.

"They quickly taught me the error of my ways," Talia continues. "The waters were for the use of Ra's al Ghul, and for no one else. But I learned other things, as well. My father was not the first Demon's Head. And he would not be the last. And while I was young, I believed - like my sister would later believe - that I myself would inherit the title of Ra's al Ghul when it was time for my father to give it up. And perhaps I would have believed it forever, had not Sara Lance visited from the future."

In spite of myself, I listen. I had not known this part of her history.

"My father was entranced. A glimpse of what would come to be. What more could one want, if he were to live forever?" She looks at Oliver.

I think that, when I had been a child, I would have wished for an electronics kit and an infinite supply of chocolate.

"He would want certainty," Oliver says. "And control."

"Indeed," Talia agrees. "You understand him more than any of us, despite having known him for such a short time." She smiles slightly. "And so my father pressed Sara, to learn of his destiny. She would not tell him. But there were hints of a prophecy - a story of an archer who could not be killed. A man who would deserve to inherit the waters."

"Which meant that you wouldn't inherit them," I realize.

"Yes," Talia says. "But I did not understand the full implications until I had grown. By that time, I had learned to find my own times to sample the waters. I visited them for years, until at last, my father's guards found me. And that was when I left."

"And trained Yao Fei," Oliver fills in.

"Yes, eventually," Talia says. "I left Nanda Parbat while my sister was small, after it was clear that the prophecy was in motion. At first I was alone, traveling the world. I found a small island in the North China Sea, and rebuilt its ancient monastery. I found the other Lazarus Pits, the ones that my father's rivals had created when they chose to flee rather than die at the time of his ascension. I found a man in China who wished to be trained, and made sure that, as the correct time approached, he would find himself stranded on Lian Yu." She raises her eyebrows at Oliver. "You did not know that I had people in ARGUS, did you? I gathered many followers - those who had been driven away by my father, and those he never encountered. Some were Assassins. Others fulfilled other roles. They all had parts to play in bringing the prophecy to fruition." She smiles slightly. "And finally, I found the man I had long sought, beaten to a pulp by the Bratva in Russia." She nods to Oliver.

"You said I was meant to be something," Oliver says.

"Yes," Talia agrees. "You were meant to survive a duel with my father."

I listen closely. This is the first I have heard of most of this story, despite two engagements, a marriage, and a pregnancy. After all this time, Oliver has still not trusted me with his past.

Oliver frowns at her. "If Sara told you that I had survived after your father nearly killed me, then she must have told you that I killed your father," he says. "Why did you train me, then?"

"Because it was meant to be," Talia replies. "All of it was meant to be."

"But if it was meant to be, why did you train Adrian Chase?" Oliver asks. "If you meant for me to kill your father, then why did you want revenge against me?"

"It was not revenge that I sought," Talia replies. "I only told you that because you believed all adversaries must be motivated by revenge. But as I said, revenge is small." She smiles slowly at him. "I trained Adrian Chase because I intended for him to kill you."

"But not for revenge...?" Oliver frowns, still confused.

"No," Talia says. "I wanted to live. As Ra's al Ghul. And therefore, you - my father's heir, the new Ra's al Ghul - needed to die."

"But I wasn't Ra's al Ghul," Oliver corrects her. "I gave the ring to Malcolm Merlyn, and then to Nyssa. And then Nyssa disbanded the League." He raises his hands. "The League is gone, Talia. There is no more Ra's al Ghul."

"My sister is a fool." Talia shakes her head at him. "The League cannot be disbanded so easily. The members dispersed, finding new masters where they could, always seeking the true Heir to the Demon."

"They came for Thea," Oliver remembers.

"Others sought you," Talia continues. "Though few of them knew your story, and the ones who did remained in disguise. Many others found me."

"So you want to kill me to get rid of the competition." Oliver finally puts the pieces together. "You wanted me to kill your father, and then you wanted to kill me, so you could become Ra's al Ghul. But Malcolm made things more complicated."

"Precisely," Talia nods. "In the years since my father's death, many heirs have emerged. Malcolm. Malcolm's daughter. You. Your son. My sister. All of you have claims to the League."

"And if Adrian had killed me, he would have had a claim as well?" Oliver asks.

"Yes," Talia confirms. "Which was why the plan was perfect. By killing himself, Adrian Chase should have ensured that everyone else on that island would die. Malcolm. Thea. Nyssa. And once you had lost everyone you loved, you would have lost your own will to live, and would have welcomed death at my hand. Your son would have been easily dealt with after that."

"But we lived," Oliver says. "We all lived."

Samantha begins coughing. Talia looks at her and raises an eyebrow. "Not all." 

"So what now?" Oliver asks. 

"Now, I will leave you to face the women you impregnated," Talia says. "The women you killed. The women brought back to life by the waters. I have other competition to attend to." She turns to leave, then looks back at me. "Live," she commands.

The gun is still in my hand. 

Oliver looks at me. "Felicity..."

I raise it and point it at him. Talia smiles and walks out the door.

Oliver and I stare at each other for one minute, two minutes, three.

"Competition?" Samantha finally speaks. "By competition, she means...? 

"Thea," I answer. "Nyssa."

"Nyssa..." Samantha spins and follows Talia out the door.

I look at Oliver and lower my gun.

"Felicity?" he asks.

"Come on," I tell him. "William should be safe - ARGUS took him to stay with Lyla and JJ, and left a decoy to distract Talia's minions. John and Roy should be there, too. But we need to save Thea and Nyssa." I follow Samantha towards the door, then look back at him. "Oliver! Your sister is in danger. Come on."

He stares, but finally follows me.


	25. I, a minor action hero

There are Assassins in the house next door. Oliver sees them first, two of them, looking out the upstairs windows. He kills them with arrows before I have time to raise my gun. He looks quickly at the roof, then kicks down the door and enters the house. Samantha and I look at each other, then follow him.

Other Assassins are guarding the hallway into the living room. Oliver fires three more arrows, and three more bodies fall to the ground. I step over them, then nearly collide with Oliver's back as he stops at the living room door. I lean around so that I can see past his quiver.

Nyssa is standing in front of a fireplace. She is holding her bow with an arrow nocked, but she has lowered it so that it isn't pointing at anyone. On the other side of the room, Thea stands, looking defiant, despite the knife at her throat.

Isabel Rochev is standing behind her.

"I thought you said Isabel was dead again?" Oliver asks me.

"She was," I reply. "Very dead. Most definitely dead."

"You didn't really believe that the last Lazarus Pit had been destroyed, did you?" Talia steps from the shadows on the other side of the room. "How exactly do you think the other Pits were created?"

"Your father's competitors..." I start. "Oh."

"Exactly," Talia said. "Those of us who were raised in the League know the secret of the waters. It only takes a small sample to transform a simple hot spring into a source of eternal life."

"And of course you brought her back," I mutter.

"Isabel needs little prompting to focus her blood lust," Talia replies. "She has been wishing for a chance to kill Malcolm's daughter for years."

Isabel just smiles.

Oliver lowers his bow to his side and raises his free hand. "Isabel," he says. "Don't do this."

"Oh, spare me, Oliver." Isabel rolls her eyes. "Does he do this with every villain?"

 _Pretty much_ , I think.

"Now?" Isabel looks at Talia.

"Whenever you are ready," Talia replies. "Kill her." 

 _Screw this,_ I think, and raise my gun.

It feels different from blood lust. I feel the cold steel beneath my fingers, see Isabel's neck through the sight. It isn't much of a target, but she is focused on Oliver, not on me. She doesn't move as I squeeze the trigger, slowly, like I remember from Amanda Waller's memories.

There is a flash and an echo, louder than when someone else fires. The gun jumps back, and I struggle to raise it again to prepare for another shot. 

Isabel drops her knife and collapses, bleeding from her neck. I blink. That was a lot easier than I expected.

Thea pulls herself away from Isabel. "Thanks," she said. "Though I'm sorry that you'll be the next target for the Zombie Bitch from Hell."

"We'll just have to keep her from coming back another time," I reply.

"Which means we've got more Lazarus Pits to destroy." Thea looks towards Nyssa and freezes.

Talia has moved across the room while we were looking at Isabel, and has a syringe pointed at Nyssa's neck. "You should not make plans for future fights until you have won this one," she says. 

"That's probably poison," Thea speculates. 

"It is," Nyssa confirms. "One of the most lethal poisons in the League's stores. A drop into a scratch can kill."

"Shit," Thea says.

I agree, and lower my gun. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Oliver drop his bow to the ground.

"It is admirable that you will drop your weapons to save my sister," Talia says. "But you forget. She is my most dangerous competitor." She tilts her head at Oliver. "I hope that does not insult you. But she spent more time learning from my father than you did from me, or than your sister did from Malcolm Merlyn."

Talia shifts slightly, moving the syringe closer to Nyssa's neck. There's an artery near there, I know. If the poison went in there, it would go... where? Samantha studied medicine. She would know.

I am deafened by the gunshot before I realize that the gun is no longer in my hand.

Talia falls to the ground. Before I realize what has happened, Samantha has emerged from her hiding spot behind me and is examining Nyssa.

"It is fine," Nyssa reassures her. "The needle did not scratch me."

Samantha doesn't speak, but pulls Nyssa down into a kiss.

Thea grabs the needle from Talia's hand and stabs her once with it, and then turns and pokes Isabel for good measure. "Might as well put the deadly poison to good use," she shrugs. 

I hear a rustling sound beside me, and turn to find Oliver holding his bow again. I look around the room, and see the remaining Assassins entering.

"She's dead," one of them says. "You killed her."

"Not me," I say. But they are looking at Samantha.

"Hail, Ra's al Ghul," another one says. "Hail to the Demon." The others bow their heads.

Thea looks at me, confused. But Nyssa is kneeling. Thea notices and follows her example. It takes Oliver a few more moments to understand what is happening, so I elbow him, and we both kneel, as well.

***

Samantha has gathered the Assassins, and with Nyssa's advice, is giving them some kind of commands. Thea has gone into another room to call Roy - someone needs to dispose of the bodies, preferably in a manner that won't allow them to be resurrected in whatever other Pits have been created. Oliver suggested calling Barry Allen - we are in Central City, after all - but the rest of us vetoed that idea. Barry can't keep secrets, after all, and leaves worse messes than he starts with. Plus it would be awkward to get the Central City police involved, given that Oliver probably violated his parole in a hundred different ways just by coming here. It will be better for everyone if we ask Lyla and ARGUS to take care of this.

And that leaves Oliver and I alone, together. I head into the kitchen - I'm not sure I can eat, but I'd rather not stay in the room with the blood and the dead bodies.

Oliver follows me. I open the cupboards, one after another, hoping that there is some kind of tea in them. I locate a couple boxes of tea bags, and then fill a kettle with water and put it on the stove. Oliver realizes what I am doing, and finds a pair of mugs. This kitchen doesn't seem to have the right spices to make Nyssa's special brew, so I just pour the hot water over the tea bags and hope for the best.

I offer a mug to Oliver. He turns from the cupboard and shows me his treasure: a jar of honey.

I smile when I see it. "My hero," I joke.

He grins at me, the same grin that I remember from long mornings in the kitchen. In all of the kitchens, in Ivy Town and the loft and our little apartment. "I do my best," he says. His voice is warm. "Though you took care of the villain."

"One of them," I say. 

"Only one," he points out. 

But I'm still thinking back to the last time I saw Isabel. "I couldn't kill her. The last time we saw her, I mean. When Isabel came back and threatened to kill Nyssa and Thea, I had a gun. But I couldn't pull the trigger."

"So... that wasn't blood lust, just now?" Oliver asks hesitantly. Not just hesitantly. Hopefully.

"It wasn't blood lust," I confirm. "I knew exactly what I was doing. Isabel was going to kill Thea. And... I couldn't let her do it."

"There was no choice to make," Oliver says softly. 

"No," I agree. I look up at him. He is standing close, very close. I can smell the laundry detergent on his t-shirt, and a hint of nervous sweat, and the leather in the strap on his quiver. He glances down at my lips, then up into my eyes. I stare back.

He sets his mug on the counter, then carefully takes mine and sets it aside.

I tilt my head up as he leans towards me. Our lips brush once, then twice, and then we are kissing and his stubble is rough against my chin and his tongue is wet against my teeth and everything loosens and tightens and melts at once...

His hand drops to my wrist and twists. The arrow drops to the floor.

I step back, breathing hard, staring at the weapon that I hadn't realized I had grabbed.

"It isn't gone," Oliver says. "The blood lust isn't gone."

I shake my head. _I want to live_ , yes. But in control. I imagine doing the tree pose, drinking Nyssa's special tea, typing commands on a keyboard. Finally, my hand falls to my side.

"No," I finally say. "It isn't gone." I breathe again, in and out, letting the urge to kill wash through me and away. "I can control it. But it takes work. When I let myself lose control... Well."

Oliver laces his hands behind his head and paces across the room. It's old body language, long disappeared, from the days when he was in a constant, quiet war with himself. My heart aches to fix it, to fix _him_ , to make it all better.

"Sara didn't know what to do?" he finally asks.

"She told me that it takes time," I say. "A long time. Months, maybe years. And... that I need to figure out who I am. Who _Felicity_ is."

Oliver took a breath. "I know who you are," he said.

"Oliver..." I push my hair back behind my ears and look down at it to avoid his eyes. The blonde ends are splitting. I really need to do something with it.

"Felicity?" He has stepped closer again. 

"Oliver," I say, looking back up. "No."

"No?" He looks uncertain.

"No," I confirm. "No, you shouldn't stand there. You still have more arrows in your quiver. And no... I don't need to know who _you_ think Felicity Smoak is. I need to figure out who _I_ think she is. I mean, who I am."

He huffs a laugh. "You used to tell _me_ that _my_ pronouns were weird."

"Yeah, well..." I shrug.

"Well, I've been there," Oliver says. "Split apart. Not knowing who I was. You helped me. You were the light that guided my way." He looks at me, pleading.

I take another breath. "You remember the things I said back there, at the other house. Don't you?"

"You were setting a trap for Talia," he says. "Right?" 

I shake my head and sigh. "You, more than anyone, should know that it's possible to tell the truth AND try to trap a super-villain at the same time."

Oliver blinks.

"After we defeated Slade Wilson, you avoided telling me what you really meant, in the mansion, when you told me that you loved me," I say. "But _I_ want to be _honest_ with you. Oliver, those things I said... they were real."

He frowns, trying to remember. "You said that you wanted to live."

"Yes, Oliver," I reply. "But there was more."

"You reminded me of all the things you did to save me. All the choices that you made, because you wanted me to become a better person." He looks hopefully at me. "I want to be that person, too."

"Listening, but not listening." I shake my head. "Oliver, I reminded you of all the times I said _no_ to you. All the times I walked away."

"And all the times you came back." He nods.

"That's not the point," I say. I turn to pick up my forgotten mug of tea. "Or maybe it is the point. Yes, I did come back. Every time. Eventually. But Oliver... do you remember why I left, each time?"

"It was different every time." He looks at me, frowning. "Wasn't it?"

"Do you remember why I came back, each time?" I take a sip.

"To help me." He is more certain. "Because I needed you."

"Yes," I say. "Every time I walked away from you, something happened to you. Some kind of threat, some kind of tragedy... something that broke my heart. But you know what didn't happen?"

He frowns.

"You still didn't tell me things. You didn't tell me about the island, or about Russia. You didn't tell me that you were planning to turn yourself in to the FBI." I raise my mug again and look at him.

"But things got better every time," he insists. "You always forgave me. Eventually."

I sigh. "And I almost forgave you again. Did you notice?"

He shakes his head.

"When you walked across the room with your hand around your neck. Like this." I set down my mug and imitate him. "I've seen you walk like that so many times. When you were confused, or hurting, or blaming yourself. When I see you like that - or bleeding, or nearly dying, or wanting to die - I can't take it. I know I can make a difference, that I can stop the hurt. So every time, every single time, I would put away my concerns, and deal with your struggles instead. But coming out of the Pit... I remember every one of those moments, more clearly than anything else. As clearly as I remember dying." I bite my lip, because I realize something that had eluded me before. "I think... I think that every time I buried my concerns, every time I went back to you... a little piece of myself died. Bit by bit, I lost myself, until all that was left was the part that loved you."

"I can help you find yourself," Oliver offers. "CEO? Overwatch?" He pauses. "Wife? Mother?"

I shake my head. "I don't know," I say. "I don't know who I want to be. All I know is that when I'm with you... I become the woman that _you_ need. And nothing else. And I know there's more to me than that... or at least, there used to be."

He winces, and I want to go to him. But would I kiss him? Or would I stab him with an arrow?

I don't have to choose, because at that moment, Thea walks in. "Lyla's on her way," she says. "Oh, and Ollie, she says she'll cover for you stealing an ARGUS jet. AGAIN."

Oliver tries to make a joke about being on probation. But I catch the look in his eyes, and know that he feels as though he has been sentenced to something far worse.


	26. I, becoming someone else

Thea has gone back to Star City with Oliver. She rolls her eyes about having to keep him out of trouble, but it's clear that she's looking forward to being home again. Roy will meet them there soon. Apparently he's become friends with Oliver's probation officer, and can help keep Oliver in line, too.

It helps, a little, to know that I'm not sending Oliver off alone.

Empathy. It's still my superpower. And my curse.

Samantha, with Nyssa's help, is figuring out what it means to have an international team of mysterious ninja minions. They plan to destroy the other Lazarus Pits, if they can find them. But Samantha has other plans, too. She had dreamed, once, of joining Doctors Without Borders and healing people in conflict zones around the world. Maybe she never became a doctor, but she's slowly re-orienting the Assassins to go out and - well, not do medical work, not exactly. But they can provide security that makes the medical care possible.

Lyla told William that his mother had been found. William has seen enough strange things in his life that he probably knows that the story is more complicated than she and John are telling him. (Officially, a government agency found Samantha alive, with some kind of head injury, more than a year after she went missing. They've just figured out her identity, and are keeping her for medical treatment for a while longer.) And the legal wheels are turning, slowly, to get Samantha officially declared alive and given custody of her son again. When she and Oliver left Central City, they tentatively agreed to look into some kind of shared custody. After all, Oliver still wants to be a father, and Samantha has to run a mysterious international team of ninjas, so she could use some help with the parenting work. Nyssa and Thea promise to keep an eye on both of them - to keep Samantha's blood lust in check, and to keep Oliver from doing anything to accidentally trigger it. They will be an excellent pair of badass aunts.

And I'm still here, in Central City, with Lyla. ARGUS is cleaning up the mess. And Lyla took me to a hair salon - one that even gives hand massages - without asking any questions.

The stylist holds up a mirror so that I can see the back. It's short, just to the nape of my neck. The dark hair - my real color, which came in during all those months without dye - curls a little around my ears. I don't recognize myself.

It's perfect. 

I nod and thank her, then go to pay.

Lyla looks up, surprised, when I return to the house. She expected me to come back as a blonde.

"This is me now," I tell her.

She smiles and tells me that it looks nice. I don't know if she is lying, but I don't care.

I go upstairs to the room I had claimed, gather my things, and lug my suitcase down into the kitchen.

Lyla looks at it carefully. "So what's next?" she asks.

"I don't know," I confess. "Felicity Smoak is dead."

"You know we can give you a new identity," Lyla offers.

"Meghan," I say immediately. "Call me Meghan."

Lyla nods. "What about a last name?"

"I was going to go with Kuttler," I tell her. "But maybe that's not such a good idea."

"Not unless you're planning to become an international cyber-criminal," Lyla replies drily.

"Yeah," I say. "That's really not me. I want to be anonymous."

"We can think about something more generic," Lyla offers. "We've got people whose entire jobs are to create new identities, you know."

"I know," I reply.

"Speaking of which..." Lyla looks carefully at me. "I know you want to find out who you are. But while you're working on figuring out who Meghan is... would you like a job?"

"That depends on the job," I tell her. "Because I do _not_ want to make coffee for _anyone_."

"I wouldn't ask you to do that," Lyla smiles. "ARGUS needs someone with your skills. After all, we were infiltrated by Talia al Ghul's people. Probably for decades. Maybe even at the highest levels."

"You're wondering exactly how Amanda Waller fit into her plan," I realize.

"Right," Lyla says. "Talia told Oliver that she was involved with ARGUS, and with its operations on Lian Yu, even before he was shipwrecked there."

"And that's where Waller recruited him," I remember.

"We need someone who can reconstruct that history," Lyla says. "Someone who can pull information from hard drives that were officially destroyed. Someone who can sort through thousands of photos. Someone who can figure out who was where, doing what... and what they might want now."

"Sounds like quite a job," I tell her. "What's the information like? It sounds like some of it might be analog..."

"It's mostly digital," Lyla promises. "And we won't ask you to do any interrogations. We just need someone who can sort through mysteries - someone my supervisors won't know, but someone whom I can trust."

"And someone with Waller's memories?" I guess.

Lyla shrugs. "You've got an advantage that nobody else has. So much of her work as director was redacted. The files are like Swiss cheese."

I look out the window. The road trip I had planned to take by myself, under an assumed name, hadn't really been that appealing. "Will you tell my mother that I'm doing top secret work?" I ask. "Because I've been more worried about what she'll say than about any other decision I've made in the last few days."

"I can take care of Donna," Lyla promises. "And I won't tell anyone where you are. Not until you want me to."

I look at my suitcase, then back at her. "Ok," I say.

We shake hands. Boss and employee.

It's a beginning.


End file.
